Tired
by Kosa Twilight
Summary: Ratchet has lived for a very long time, and he's struggling to keep up. He's tired. It's getting close to the time where he can't do it for much longer. It gets to the point that the other Autobots become worried, and Optimus finds himself trying to battle an invisible enemy haunting his dearest friend.
1. Chapter 1

It was just another day. The human children would come, they would mess around with the others, go home, rinse and repeat. Every now and again, the Decepticons would be doing something either petty or catastrophic, which made it a bit more interesting. It wasn't all that interesting anymore, however. There was once a time that the Medic of Outpost Omega-1 felt a bit of excitement when it came to the Decepticons on this dirtball, but now, even that was growing tiresome.

Tiresome - Such a fitting word for a plethora of different things. When most get tired, they would recharge, but Ratchet didn't know the last time he'd actually been able to recharge properly. His record was eight hours some time ago, and he'd never been able to get near it since. He was lucky if he could get an hour or a bit less. It was tiring to be tired. His joints ached when he moved around now. If he just sat down or lay down somewhere, there was a chance he wouldn't get up, which was why he spent all day standing up, unlike the others.

Why was it that he couldn't recharge? There were a lot of reasons. Too many reasons, honestly. There were so many that he couldn't pick just one, and for millennia, that was how he had operated. A barely functioning alcoholic insomniac. The Energon they saw him drink? It had enough high grade in it to kill Wheeljack thanks to his ridiculous tolerance for poisons. He couldn't be sober. The idea of being sober made the old mech take another gulp of his daily ration, given their ever-dwindling supply.

Frequently for the others, Ratchet couldn't really consume much without throwing it up later. At least, unless it had an absurd amount of alcohol in it. For a moment, he would look away from the terminal he painstakingly built - he took a long time on purpose - to look at the human children. They were young things, and even though he did try, he didn't have any care for them. It was difficult enough understanding how he felt regarding his own kind, let alone others, and especially children.

He'd look away when he saw a hint that they were going to notice, going back to something he was trying to focus on. Anything was better than what would happen if he wasn't distracted. Thanks to that break from the terminal, he could already feel that something was here. It was a face that he wouldn't know the name of, a voice that would sound like all the others from aeons of listening to them cry or repeat that ever haunting word... Why.

Why? He hated that word. Those three letters plus the punctuation enraged him. He didn't usually have an answer for it, and that just added to the anger. Thanks to a long time of practice, nobody noticed a single thing. Having a stoic face was one of Ratchet's many specialities. They hadn't noticed that he hadn't actually been in his quarters for a week. He liked it that way. Before his mate became lost to a very malicious code in her processor akin to a cerebral tumour, she would always notice whenever it was getting harder for him, and he hated the affection she'd give.

It just made it worse.

Because he didn't deserve any of it. He didn't deserve any of the admiration he got, he didn't even deserve the positive smile they would direct at him. He'd deliberately do something to upset them so they would be mad at him as they should, but then it just went away, which was annoying. On worse days, it felt like they were deliberately being nice just to make him feel worse. He knew it wasn't true, but that didn't alleviate his confusing feelings.

He could feel gravity pulling him down, demanding that he just fall and let it be other with. Through sheer stubbornness, he wouldn't, but that stubbornness was waning. After countless aeons of pulling on through, of others telling him it would get better, he was finding he couldn't do it anymore. Every day felt like an eternity, and he was so damn tired. It was too much. The thoughts of going to recharge and never coming back online were seeming more and more appealing - the blinking exit sign amidst a raging fire. He was been alive too long, and it was getting close to the time where he just couldn't anymore.

"Hey, you alright?" asked a feminine voice.

"I'm fine, just a bit tired."

That was usually enough for them. Just a simple fine and they would leave him alone. Today, however, Arcee didn't just walk away as she always did, which was annoying. Out of everyone here, he liked her the least. As a medic, it was his duty to save every life that you can, but personally, he really wouldn't be bothered if she just left and never came back. He felt similarly to Cliffjumper - never liked that frag. He was tempted to call Megatron up and thank him for getting rid of that hothead.

"We're all a bit stressed over finding these relics, maybe you should take a break."

A break was the last thing he needed.

"I don't need a break. If I took a break around here, nobody would be working and the Decepticons would have more of a headstart than they already do." That was enough for her to leave. He was inwardly pleased with that and went back to distracting himself from what really disturbed him sometimes.

Sometimes, if he was especially annoyed with someone, he would imagine ending them. It was so easy and he was reluctant to admit that it was satisfying. He knew why it did and not only did it enrage him, it terrified him. He had spent so long trying to bury away that part of his life, but it wouldn't go away. The idea that he could just kill his problems was an annoyance of its own.

"Take a break, old friend."

Over the past year, Optimus was noticing something. He didn't know what, but his old friend was declining in some way. It worried him. The issue was that Ratchet never talked about whatever could be bothering him. Despite his theatrics at times and his ever-present vocalised opinion, he never really outright state how he felt on something. After knowing the children for near a year, Optimus was realising that Ratchet still didn't have much of an attachment to the kids, and he was also realising that Ratchet wasn't paying attention to the children whatsoever, which allowed Miko to always run through.

He knew the medic had problems when it came to connecting to others. At times, it seemed like he preferred it that way. But Optimus was no fool, and he knew something was wrong. First of all, he knew that Ratchet's Energon was a bit more than just that. Aeons of experience have taught him that high grade tainted Energon is very slightly thinner than normal Energon, and the fact it would ripple very slightly whenever someone walked near it meant that it was very heavily tainted.

Optimus hadn't brought it up yet because he wasn't sure how. It wasn't safe and needed to be addressed, but how? He could see that his friend was getting a bit slower now, and that wasn't due to his age. There was a feeling of dread in the base and he was very concerned it might be regarding his friend. He would have to try tomorrow for something to be done.


	2. Chapter 2

Bumblebee was dancing around in joy after regaining his ability to transform. As joyous as that is, it would've been better if they had the Forge of Solus Prime. However, he was able to be out for a bit and not remember any of it, so that was a definite plus to situation. It was a shame he couldn't give his T-Cog to someone who needed it, though. It was a unique type, and Bumblebee could've really used it in the field.

He watched as the smallest of the humans, Rafael, started walking towards him. While he didn't care much for them, he tolerated the little one the most. Unlike the other two, he was bothered to actually learn about Cybertronians, even their language. The boy seemed concerned about something. Hopefully, it was something mundane he could just answer quickly so he'd go away.

"Can I ask you something?"

"What?"

"Where are you from?" That was an odd question. "I'm trying to make profiles for the military so they know more about you guys and so they don't get nervous or anything if you have to work together again like with the dingus. I've got everyone else, but I haven't got anything about you yet. Actually, only Optimus seems to know anything about you."

"And I'd like to keep it that way."

"Why?"

"Because I did things I'm not proud of, many of which would cause discord among the others and I'd rather not deal with that."

He didn't really come from anywhere, did he? Everyone had their respected areas - Optimus and Iacon, Arcee and Iacon, Bumblebee was sparked on the borders of Vos and so on. Despite that, he didn't have a city to call his own. Some of them hadn't even been built yet by the time he was alive or was that an incorrect statement? It was hard to tell when exactly he was alive, or if he still counted as being alive now. He would have to spend his time trying to figure that out and take his sweet time doing it, too.

"Oh, ok."

He watched the small child walk away, then grimaced as the most annoying of the trio pulled out her guitar. He hated that thing. If it were up to him, it would've been incinerated. She couldn't even play a tune, just make an aggravatingly loud noise. But because Bulkhead liked it, he tolerated it. He found the mech to be one of the more tolerable of the group, though he wasn't sure why. He reminded Ratchet of a different time, maybe, before his nephew lost his mind.

To further ruin the small amount of pleasure he got from actually having more than an hour recharge this week, the eldest boy's mother arrived. She was one of a similar profession, so he found her mildly interesting, but little more than that. Even Arcee was annoyed with her, though that could just be Arcee. It seemed like nothing was good enough, and she had a habit of venting all of her little issues on him like he was a dumpster for her petty trash. That was probably why he didn't like her very much.

The more annoyed he thought about it, the more one of his servos started to itch. He knew better than to indulge because that itch wouldn't go away even if it was scratched down to the exoskeleton. It took a while to do that. How long did it take for humans to do that?

Deciding to think about something else, Ratchet turned his focus to Optimus who was watching the children. He didn't look like he cared all that much about Miko's music, he was just happy she was expressing herself. The Prime turned to him, and there was something unreadable in his optics. That was annoying, the last thing he wanted was a lecture which commonly came with that odd look. Honestly, it sounded like Prime just said things without really knowing what it meant and everyone just accepted it because of his voice or position.

The large mech walked over and motioned for the medic to follow. He did so, gladly leaving the echoing screeches of an abused instrument. While in the hallway, Prime stopped and faced him. Something was going on and he was losing interest already. If this was going to be another talk about accepting the clothed maggots he'd leave. Judging by Prime's change in expression, he must've been wearing his feelings on his faceplate. With millennia of practice, it went away and he was stoic again. He blamed the distraction of the itch in his servo for the lapse in control.

"Something is up." Optimus didn't like this. When Miko started playing her music, he could see that his old friend wasn't just annoyed, he had a look of contempt in his optics. Then, in a moment, it was gone. How often did he feel that way but hid it? He trusted Ratchet to watch the children when they were busy, but that was clearly a mistake. It seemed that ever since the incident with Synth-En, he had started to change. Or worse, he was showing how he was actually feeling more often.

"That's probably your height."

"I mean with you. I'm starting to notice that something is wrong and I want to know what it is so I can help." He seemed annoyed by that. "I can't help if I don't know what's wrong."

"Nothing's wrong, you're making mountains out of molehills."

"If anything, I've been doing the opposite. Whatever has been bothering you, it's been a long time in the making, possibly before we came to Earth. I'm growing concerned."

"Well, you shouldn't. I'm fine."

"You're not. Is it something you're embarrassed over? You know I won't judge you."

"Embarrassed? Why should I be embarrassed? If anything, I should be annoyed at you for getting in the way of my work."

"Playing Tetras is considered work now?"

"That's coming a lot from a mech who watches Star Trek when he should be _looking_ for Energon mines."

Optimus frowned at the attempt to redirect the subject.

"I know I can't force you, old friend. I want you to know that I'm always available, and I won't judge you for whatever is bothering you. If it helps, I'll stop putting you in charge of the children so much as you clearly aren't fond of them. Maybe try and organise a way for you to get out more."

"I wasn't exactly hiding that I don't like them."

"I wasn't aware you didn't like them so much."

"Yeah, well, you're not exactly the most observant of mecha."

With that, Optimus watched as Ratchet turned and walked away. Somehow, he felt like those final words had a different meaning than what he heard. Could it be about that loathing look he had directed to the children and miss Darby? Optimus wasn't sure, but if he wanted to hit gold, he was going to have to keep digging. Maybe not just for his friend's sake, but for the sake of the others...


	3. Chapter 3

Wheeljack was here. As this couldn't get worse, he just had to come and drag Dreadwing here with him. And worst of all? For reasons he didn't know, the lunatic had decided to hang around. He wasn't happy with that. Not at all. Now he'd have to deal with a daredevil who reminded him of everything he hated. There was a reason he'd worked so hard to get rid of that life, and this idiot was almost an embodiment of it. It was like his past had taken Cybertronian form, and it was sitting there and laughing about something stupid with Bulkhead.

But there was more than one reason Ratchet couldn't stand this wrecker.

He remembered the day that he first saw that street urchin.

_It had been a slow day. Black Frequency was trying hard to keep up with Hoist as the two worked their afts off to make something that Ratchet wasn't allowed to see yet. He didn't know why and wasn't at the point where he could care. With his faceplate obscured by his mask (think Bumblebee's from Bumblebee), he walked towards the door of the warehouse that the owners had turned into their home. He could feel that someone was coming, and was going to determine whether it needed to be removed or not._

_The door swung open, nearly swiping him in the face. He looked at the femme standing there, smothered in mud and some singes from the first signs of an acid storm. She was beautiful, even he couldn't deny that. She stood at 36ft, a monstrous height that was extremely unusual for a femme, though not unusual for a triple-changer. One of her optics was a wonderful blue, and the other was a marvel._

_Out of everything about the crazy titan other than her mind, her optic always caught his attention. He wasn't sure what happened, either it was the result of an accident or genetics, which wasn't something he dared think about. Her right optic was like a rainbow crystal that would change whenever the light hit a certain angle and then another. It was a mesmerising prismatic hole that could hypnotise anyone who saw it. It was what allowed him to be caught in the first place._

_He pried away from that optic to look at the small bundle of mud and metal in her arms. It moved. It looked at him in the face, two small blue optics and a few cuts on his face. He wasn't pleased and tilted his helm in a visible query._

_"This is Wheeljack, I found him messing with Thunderroar and Cloudjumper's mechanic shop," chuckled Sabrestorm. "Those triplets are getting big, you know. I swear that little Thundercracker is even louder than his sire! And Skywarp, oh that little one can teleport. I'm terrified to find out what little Star can do someday."_

_Black Frequency walked past him as she looked over the youngling, who hid in her armpit. Sabrestorm found it amusing and walked onward, putting the mechling on the table in the middle of the large room. He wasn't an infant by any means, but the little urchin was smaller than he should be for his age. Hoist left whatever it was he was working on to come and examine the little one._

_"Hey, come over and watch." He did, walking so silently it was as if he didn't weigh anything at all. "See this? It's a solution that quickens the nanites, it turns them into little velocitronians and heals wounds up like a Grand Prie!" The old medic chuckled as he dabbed it on the mechlings face, who was not amused._

_"Frag off, old-timer!" Shouted the kid, his audio receptors blinking with every word he spoke._

_"He's got spunk," Sabrestorm commanded as she patted his back. Her dark grey and blue armour glistened against the light hanging above the child. "You can touch him, you know." He shook his helm. "You're not gonna break him, it's ok."_

_He refused, instead only watching as Hoist repaired and cleaned the small one. Black Frequency was jumping up and down like Scraplets were at her pedes. He turned to her in confusion._

_"Oh, Shockwave's going to love this! I'll go tell him!"_

_He watched as she ran off, then returned his gaze to the small child. _

_"You know, I think I'll take him as a student. I've always wanted to be a teacher. What do you think, mate?" He looked at his shoulders and shifted them. He had observed Hoist do this sometimes, and that seemed to have been enough. "I can teach him with you. Hey, maybe he can help me name you! We haven't really figured that out yet, have we, gramps?"_

_"You shouldn't name it, Sabre, we don't want to get attached to it."_

_"He isn't an IT, gramps."_

_"Well, he ain't one of us."_

_He couldn't form an opinion over what they were talking about. He just heard talking, not really able to absorb what they were talking about him. They turned back to Sabrestorm's new 'student' as he-_

"You ok?"

The medic was snapped from the blast from the past to look at a much more grown-up version. Thankfully, Wheeljack didn't recognise him. That would have annoyed him as much as remembering that comment Hoist had made.

He wasn't exactly wrong, though.

"Fine," He snapped, the words as harsh as the acid storms that probably no longer fell on Cybertron's surface. The Wrecker didn't look convinced. He didn't want to see him, it made him think of her... before he lost them all. While only one had died in the literal sense, the others were dead in other ways. He didn't like thinking about that, either. Even though Black Frequency was alive, she didn't even remember her own name anymore, and it hurt.

It hurt a lot more than he could admit. He loved Black, and she didn't recognise him. He had to stop visiting before he broke in a million pieces. According to Hoist, she had sparked at some point, so he had a sparkling out there that she didn't recall having, meaning that they would probably never find them. That hurt, too. The look of pure disdain that Hoist gave him was painful as well, as he knew the mech blamed him for Sabrestorm's death. He blamed him for Black's condition, too.

He wasn't wrong about those, either.

There was so much that he'd caused that if he ever musted up the courage to tell someone what irked him, he didn't know how or where to start. Did he start with when he lost Sabre? When he lost Black? What about the time before then, the one that frightened him the most.

"I've spent some time around Ultra Magnus, I've learned to read through stoic."

"It's none of your business, Wheeljack. Just get in your ship and bother someone else."

He had grown more tired than usual after seeing her again. It was like something had just drained all the Energon out of his body, and that optic of colour was going to be staring at him through the ceiling when he lay on that useless berth sitting in his quarters. He could feel the disappointment that she would be giving if she were among the living, and he could feel her regret at saving his life.

Sometimes he'd ask whether or not she did the right thing, saving him. Black and Hoist both told her not to, that it was a mistake. Were they right? He wasn't sure. It was hard to think when he was starting to get sober. Sobriety caused such questions to claw their way from their graves. He wanted to be alone as Miko was sure to start playing that infernal instrument of hers.

"Wheeljack, please," said a concerned Prime.

He was paying a lot more attention after the last time they spoke. He saw that every now and again, there would be a moment when his friend wasn't really there. His body was There, but his mind was elsewhere. He had brought that up to Miss Darby, and her expression only made his concern worse. How long had that been going on? What did it mean? How could he fix it?

The Wrecker whistled for Optimus' attention and pulled him into the hallway for a private conversation. Clearly, the reason for Wheeljack's stay was more than just for Bulkhead.

"You see it too?" In such a short time, he'd noticed? Prime felt inner rage at himself that he wasn't able to notice in aeons what Wheeljack did in a few minutes.

"I am trying to deal with it."

"It doesn't look like it. I've been around stoic mechs for a while, Prime. Pit, I was trapped with Magnus of all mecha! I don't think he can emote more than disappointed that he isn't a Prime or something like that. I'm not gonna sugarcoat it, but from the little I've seen, you're gonna have to hurry up. I think you're past the point of asking nicely, too."

He was dead serious, too. Optimus didn't want to push his friend, he felt like if he tried then any progress he could possibly make would be destroyed. What could he do? Wheeljack didn't seem to be going anywhere without an answer, and the Prime felt guilty over that. He wanted to say he was working on it, but honestly?

Optimus didn't know what to do.


	4. Chapter 4

He needed a break. There was too much going on at the base, and Wheeljack always seemed to be watching him. Didn't he get that Ratchet just wanted to be left alone? Was he purposefully being annoying? And Optimus was doing it as well! Of course they were, the two were complete control freaks. One of these days he won't be able to empty his tanks without them watching. It was like living with Soundwave again, the weird little slender-mech.

Yellowstone National Park was a lot more comforting and tolerable than that base. It was quiet, save the occasional call of a horny animal. In the distance, he heard a scream that was similar to a woman screaming. That, in fact, was the call of a fox. Maybe he should show a video of what they should like to Miko, that'd get her to stop singing that damn Fox Song, or was it the Duck Song? It was one of those two, and either way, hearing her sing it nonstop for nearly three hours was making it difficult not to Groundbridge her to the moon.

He knew it wouldn't be possible, the Groundbridge vortex would snap and flail off somewhere else, which what he would've been hoping for.

Hm, those ideas were becoming a little more common than usual, or had he just not been paying attention? The fact he wasn't sure meant he was just about as intoxicated as he liked, the kind where he could still function and didn't have to deal with visions of the past. Sometimes, they'd cause him to blackout, which was even better. Maybe he could start working on something to make it stronger?

Maybe something like Synth-En?

While Optimus forbade it to be used on Autobots, Ratchet never told him what that stuff was really like. The reason was that he didn't feel anything at all, and it was ecstasy. He melted half the faceplate of some miner, and he didn't feel anything at all, and that was exhilarating. He was trapped with guilt overdoing it now, but at that moment, he was free of such things, just like he'd been before Sabrestorm...

No, he shouldn't be thinking about that stuff or her work in that way. She would be so angry that he'd ruined her work, and she was one of the few whose anger would upset him.

The air was cool against his metal, something that he noticed the others didn't feel as extensively. It was a curious thing to be so sensitive to temperature. Right now, he could feel that it was minus six degrees, and as it was much cooler than Jasper, he could feel his systems heating themselves up. It was like a pulse of warmth. Whenever he was somewhere hot, the pulse would be cool.

After looking around for a few moments, he decided that he wanted to see what could be around. Since nobody was there, he could activate his mask. It felt strangely comforting when it snapped over his faceplate, and then he saw the heat signatures of multiple creatures. Hiding near a tree was a bear, probably a grizzly. It was interesting to know that grizzlies weren't the largest species of bear, that was the polar bear. Above the grizzly but below the polar was something called the Kodiak, which he assumed was where the bear called Koda got his name from in that movie Bumblebee really liked for some reason.

For a few moments, he was curious to find out what the young mech was doing. If he were to put everyone on a list, Bumblebee would probably be at the top. He remembered how lost that young mech had been after losing his voicebox, and he empathised with it. Maybe that was why he offered up his cog? It wasn't a T-Cog, it was something called an R-Cog, something that was common for his... type.

If he ever got tired of the ambulance, he could scan something else. It worked with colour, too. He could scan a red car and then he'd be red. Sometimes he contemplated taking his out to try and replicate it, but he didn't know what the side effects would be. Why was he bothering with such thoughts, anyway? The ambulance was great. Put the siren on and he didn't have to worry about breaking the speed limit, no policeman would dare pull over a speeding life-saving vehicle.

He deactivated the mask and paused his aimless wander. Maybe he should let Optimus know where he's gone? He didn't exactly tell anyone that he'd left, and while Prime was starting to get on his nerves, he knew the big oaf cared. The fact he was borderline nagging him to open up was evidence of that.

But he couldn't tell Optimus what was wrong, where could he even start? If Ratchet told Optimus who... no, WHAT he really was, he knew that the fallout would be severe. How could he ever admit that he was terrified that they'd tun on him? How could he admit that he was terrified of what he was capable of? They didn't seem to realise that the Synth-En only stopped him from being restrained, everything else was things that Ratchet could _already_ do.

He could throw Bulkhead through a metre thick concrete wall, he could fight multiple enemies on his own, he was able to take down the likes of Breakdown if moments and he was able to hold his own against a horde of undead and that was without the Synth-En. Without that green abomination, he didn't have it in him to use any of it. He couldn't spar with the others, he couldn't join in any of their games, he couldn't even use his tools without damaging them in some way.

This progression of exhaustion was making it harder and harder to control. That rush of energy and awakeness the Synth-En made him realise that he had been tired for a very, very long time. As Ratchet made his right servo into a fist, his joints started to protest. Maybe it was the cold, he was slower in cooler conditions.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" The sickly feminine voice of a certain glitch caught his attention.

Standing a couple of hundred feet away were three Decepticons - Airachnid, Dreadwing and Breakdown, the latter looking particularly eager to get some payback. Well, this is what he gets for running off without telling Optimus.

"I'm guessing you're looking for the same thing I am?"

Lying wasn't something Ratchet was proud of, but he had grown good at it. The past few weeks he wasn't doing as good as usual, but he would correct that. Keep up the lie that he was fine and then they would leave him be. Right now, a lie was what stood between him and getting mangled by three very angry Decepticons. Yes, he was capable of quite a few things, but he didn't have the courage to use any of them. That green stuff would be quite handy right now.

"What're you talking about?" Said Dreadwing. Ratchet was a little interested in the confusion in his voice, it was subtle enough for Airachnid not to notice but he heard it.

"Fowler informed us that there was some MECH activity around here, so we're investigating. Since our comms aren't operating, he was likely correct, unless that's you're doing?"

He had to suppress a smile when they lowered their offensive stances. After what happened to cyclops here, as well as Airachnid's intent to betray MECH, they weren't going to be taking any chances. Ratchet activated his comm, pretending that he was frustrated that it wasn't working even though it was fine. His acting skills weren't all that good right now, but it was enough for them. They likely believed him to be defenceless without Synth-En, a belief that would prove to benefit him.

While he was growing more tired these past days, he wanted everything to be on his terms. Though, there was the question if he deserved it after what he'd done. No, don't think about that right now. Think about getting out of there in one piece.

"It seems to be only affecting yours," Dreadwing commented as he checked his own.

"Isn't it obvious?" Said the spider femme. "They've lured the Autobots here in order to capture one. Thanks to my brief alliance with them, I know that they have limited control over the Autobots' frequency. That makes white and orange here good bait. We can set our own trap then find where that snivelling Silas is hiding," she grinned maliciously.

"Scrap."

* * *

It was weird. Arcee complained about Airachnid's webbing all the time, but it was actually weirdly soothing. That itch that'd been in his servo all day had cooled down since being encased in the stuff, so he'd have to take a sample for later. What do you know, going on walks really does help you in the long run?

What would be more helpful was if the Autobots got off their afts. He made a few testing tugs at the white sticky substance that trapped him against a conveniently large tree and found it was stronger than it appeared. Maybe he could use the chemical compound as a kind of bandage around proto-injuries? Welding was fine and all, but it left the soft metal under their armour irritated and depending on the severity of the scar, could make transforming or moving very difficult for some. It would give him something to do for a while.

After a few more moments, there was some rustling in the bushes. A bear? No, it wasn't a bear. Needless to say, his spark started to shake violently when some humans in very familiar armour came through. Oh scrap, he'd accidentally been telling the truth.

Why was he such an idiot? He just left the base without telling anyone, and now he was stuck with these creatures. What would they do if they got his cog? What would happen if they got anything else? He couldn't go through something like that...

_"Don't worry, it'll be done soon."_

There was a sudden rush of panic. There wasn't any thought that was anywhere near rational, just a very powerful desire to get away and ensure that nothing followed him. He struggled against the webbing as the agents took aim of their weapons, that rush coming again but stronger that time. After taking their sweet time, the Decepticons moved in. Airachnid grabbed two of them while Dreadwing and Breakdown started mowing them down like they were lawn.

In the span of a few minutes, that group of however many was cut down to two. Airachnid hung the two on a tree branch, her smile showing off her fangs. Breakdown was eager to start his revenge, but he took notice of the tied up mech. He knew what was going on and made a motion for Dreadwing to cut him loose. He'd seen this enough times to know what to do, as well as some firsthand experience.

"Hey," he said in a direct but soft tone, his aeons of training taking over. The older medic followed his direction, probably out of fear. Without needing to be told, the other two took some steps back, watching on as the cyclops did his job. He knew that there wasn't much physical danger and knew that it would pass. It was unpleasant and felt like you were going to die, but it would end. "Slow down your fans. Take an intake, hold it, then release it and repeat."

It could be very easy to forget that even though Breakdown was a brute, he did have medical training, as well as being Knockout's assistant in both the partner sense and the official sense. Airachnid didn't know how he'd managed, but Breakdown managed to become an official nurse. She was amused by the thought of him in one of those funny earth nurse outfits. She would be sure to inform Soundwave of this idea to perform a 'prank'. After seeing what the vehicons did to each other, it felt like a special kind of torture that she could repeat without much repercussion.

"We should get back, Megatron is likely wondering where it is that we've gone." Dreadwing kneeled down as he picked up one of the weapons the splattered organics had been holding. This would be good to examine later. "Airachnid, get the organics. I'm not touching your web."

She rolled her optics as she grabbed the unconscious humans, the two of them already walking away. Breakdown stayed a few moments more, taking in everything to ensure all was at least physically well. Since the medic helped them capture some mech operatives, it was the least he could do. Then he was gone, leaving the medic on his own next to a massacre.

There were a lot of things that Ratchet was feeling. Embarrassment, residual fear, anger and others. He was an idiot for letting this happen. He put himself and others in danger because of his own selfish choices, just like always. No matter how many times he told himself he had changed, there was always something to prove otherwise. And why did Breakdown try helping? He should hate him as much as everyone else did.

He wanted to recharge. He wanted it so badly but knew he wouldn't be able to. He was terrified he'd see _that_ face.

_"Now, now, we can't have you slipping off. I've barely even started."_

Though it was a futile attempt, he covered his audio receptors. He could feel phantom servos touching his mesh, he could feel phantom tools digging and scraping his armour to expose the soft metal beneath. He was shaking as the tip of a knife that wasn't there started to press against his abdomen. Ratchet knew that it was going to go away, he knew it wasn't real. He kept his fans low and took in the air slowly to keep his systems cool along with those cold pulses.

He didn't know how long he'd been there, but before he knew it, a familiar large servo was on his shoulder, along with a request for what had happened here.

Optimus had been looking for his old friend for five hours. He'd gone off on his own before, but he never usually went very far. After a bit, they started to get worried. Optimus tried calling him, but he wouldn't answer. Or, as he was learning, Ratchet couldn't answer. Optimus was annoyed that he'd gone off to Yellowstone on his own without telling anyone, but that irritation went back to the all too familiar feeling of worry when he heard about the Decepticons, then the lie that accidentally came try.

The dark substance on the ground was what was left of the MECH squadron, and Ratchet didn't seem to know that he had some of their remains on his right pede. He looked more exhausted than when they found him in that cave with a horrible wound in his chest. Optimus' grip on his shoulder tightened very slightly with newfound anger. He could smell the high grade, which only fueled this fire.

"What. Were. You. Thinking?"

"I-"

"No!" The larger mech got up, not so nicely bring his friend with him. "You could have gotten yourself killed, or worse. You are unbelievably lucky that you were right that MECH was here, or you would be in the hands of the Decepticons!" The anger quickly changed to terror. "Why? Why didn't you tell anyone you were coming here? Why won't you let me help?" That terror was dissolving into desperation.

And Ratchet didn't know how to answer. He hadn't seen Optimus behave like this before, which was terrifying. Why had he done this? He could have just gone off somewhere in the Nevada desert, but he'd decided to be nearly 800 miles away in Wyoming. if he wanted some space, he could've done that in his quarters. Was it because Optimus and Wheeljack were onto the fact he wasn't as ok as he told everyone?

"I... don't know."

Though it wasn't exactly an answer, it was more than what he'd been getting for a while. Optimus let go of his friend, forcing himself to calm down. This wasn't something he knew how to handle. Battle? Sure, he knew how to fight, how to strategically ruin Megatron's meticulous plans. This was a different kind of battle, and it involved an enemy that neither of them knew how to handle. A pep talk wasn't going to banish this foe, nor was a well-placed fist or swipe of his sword.

"Can you at least tell me what's causing this?"

"It doesn't matter, they're all dead." He could feel his mood change back to his eternal annoyance.

That told the Prime more than he'd likely intended. It told him that this was because of someone, which was a start. Somebody had caused this, now he just needed to know what that mecha had done to hurt his friend so much. He wanted so badly to shake it out of his friend, but he knew better. He looked so tired that doing so would only be counterproductive.

With a small grunt on annoyance, he put an arm around Ratchet to take him towards a Groundbridge that had been waiting for them. Optimus decided that while he needed to know what was going on, he needed to give him some space to cool off from this evening.

As well as getting rid of their high grade.


	5. Chapter 5

Optimus wasn't sure what to do, so he thought it was best to ask someone who might. He left for Griffin Rock, intending to ask Chase for some advice. For a lot of the day, however, he wasn't able to. Chief Burns' brother, Woodrow, made it difficult. It caused them to be trapped underground with large spiders, dinosaurs, being rocketed into the air through a volcano by blowing up much-needed energon and did he mention dinosaurs?

It was stress that he really, _really_, didn't need. He managed to save a small piece, but it didn't make him feel as good as it usually would. Now that this was all over, he could finally ask for the advice he came here for. It seemed that Chase knew he wanted something, so the officer led the prime into their hideout. Optimus requested that he and Chase speak privately, and the others thankfully understood. After a few moments, the two were alone.

"What is troubling you?" Chase asked, his tone eerily similar to how Shockwave talks.

"One of my Autobots are... unwell."

"How so?"

"It has been a problem for a while and it started a little bit more than two months ago. No, it didn't start then, it was just more apparent after an incident. I just know that they're very unwell, and it isn't something I have any experience in. From the little I've gathered, it involves someone who has already passed on, but whoever they are is still haunting them."

Optimus felt wrong. He wanted help, but who was he supposed to ask? He listened to Wheeljack and kept a closer eye on his friend, but that was probably what pushed him to go further out than usual. He knew that Chase had dealt with mecha who had these problems as he was in the rescue service, and that was the only avenue he could take to help, even if he felt like he was betraying his friends' trust in the process.

Chase was going to say something, but Heatwave walked in. He gave Chase a look, and quietly, the officer left the room. Optimus was a little confused as to what was happening, but Heatwave had a strange kind of feeling to him. His presence had a kind of weight to it that had never been there before. Something was bothering him, too.

"Chase was supposed to have been with Chief Burns three minutes ago. Whatever you needed him for, I can help." Something in his dark orange optics told Optimus he was only partially telling the truth, but he wouldn't press.

"He's unwell." Heatwave raised an optic ridge. "I came here because I didn't know who else to turn to. It's something mental. The most that I've managed to get is that he thinks I'll judge him for it and that whatever has caused it died. It became easier to notice about two months ago after the Synth-En incident I think I informed you of."

Heatwave nodded, seemingly taking in what Optimus had told him. As Optimus watched him, he noticed that Heatwave looked oddly tired as well. It wasn't like Ratchet's, but it was there. Maybe he would be more help than he first thought.

"Yeah, you said it was able to make you do a load of insane things. Is he embarrassed over what he did during that episode?"

"No, this is something much older, he's practised hiding it for so long that I fear it could have been a problem before we even met. I feel that the Synth-En has only weakened his defences, making it easier for us to see that something is wrong. I took Wheeljack's advice a week ago, and I feel like it caused him to leave the base. He's done it before, he's allowed to obviously, but he didn't tell anyone that he was hiding in Yellowstone, Wyoming, roughly 800 miles away. He got in a lot of trouble there, and I think it made it worse."

"Take me through what you know."

Though he didn't want to admit it, talking to someone about these problems were making it easier, even though that feeling of wrongness and betrayal were starting to chew at the edges of his spark.

"From what I got, he was in the forest when he walked into three Decepticons - Airachnid, Dreadwing and Breakdown. To keep them from attacking, he lied and said that MECH was nearby and we were investigating." Heatwave nodded, already made aware of the group. "They tied him to a tree and waited, and he happened to have been right by sheer luck or the complete opposite. From the massacre nearby, the Decepticons tore through them. They let him go, but when I found him... now that I've had more time to think about it, I don't think he was all there."

"Not all there?"

"He was sitting against the tree covering his audio receptors, and I think he might've said something. I'm not sure... Kay olos, rap esunez? It was some kind of language, I don't think he knows he said it."

That strange gibberish changed Heatwave's entire being. He seemed to have stiffened, almost like he was afraid of it.

"It's Encryptaryn, a language that should stay dead along with its maker."

He'd never heard of that. Come to think of it, Ratchet had never told him or anyone where he had come from. He said he lived in Kaon for a while, but never where he was from. He never mentioned who his sire or carrier was, nor did he mention if he had a caregiver if he came from the Well. Was Ratchet from a planet that was destroyed like Velocitron? Was that what he meant when he said that 'they' were all dead? The more he dug, the more questions he uncovered.

"What does it mean?" He shook his red helm, almost like hearing the language was painful. "Does it have something to do with what's wrong?"

"Very likely, yes. When it comes to the language, I'm afraid I don't remember all that much about it or its origins. I was part of the Blip Plague that swept through Kaon, and while I didn't forget my entire life, I forgot a large part of my past which includes Encryptaryn. Obviously, I haven't forgotten how much I hate it."

Optimus gave his condolences, but he was frustrated. He was so close to finding a clue that could help, but he was pushed into a dead-end thanks to a plague... one that Ratchet's mate was suffering from. That probably wasn't helping matters. ButOptimus happened to be very infamous for his refusal to give up, so he continued on.

"Alright, then. I'll find someone who does know about it." Heatwave gave an awkward and nervous cringe in reaction. "You know someone who does?"

"Yeah... and you're not going to like it."

"I'm starting to get tired of his maze of confusion. Just tell me who knows about Encryptaryn and its origins so I can find out what's wrong with my friend."

"Megatron."

"Scrap."

Why? Why did it have to be so difficult? He just thought that Ratchet wasn't feeling all that great, he didn't think it involved some dead language only his greatest enemy seemed to know about. It wasn't like he could just call and ask Megatron for some kind of favour, could he? Though given how little options he had, which were none, he may have to.

He thanked Heatwave begrudgingly as he called for a Groundbridge, thinking about how he was supposed to do this. He had no idea just how deep the hole was, but he wasn't going to stop digging, not if it meant helping his friend from whatever troubled him.

As he walked through a Groundbridge, he was faced with multiple blasters. He didn't want to deal with this. Everyone was acting weird, speaking like it was some kind of buffoon. He told them he'd been to an Energon mine and showed them the small piece he'd managed to save. They looked very nervous. He didn't know why and it was annoying.


	6. Chapter 6

Optimus had gotten rid of the high grade. He hated him for that. It was his only escape without the other two options. He needed it because it muddled up his senses. Without it, he was trapped in suffocating sobriety. With clear optics, everything was just worse. He could remember everything so much clearer, and it made him sick. He could hear phantom echoes long past reach him.

Worst of all, _IT_ was now hanging around. By burying _it_ for so long, _it_ had taken a form of its own. _It_ would just stand there, watching, waiting for an order that wouldn't come. _It_ stood in the corner of his quarters, _it__'s_ optics like molten magma attempting to melt him with its ever-present glare alone. _Its_ main colour was vanta black - a black so black that light was sucked into its starved abyss. _It_ was striped with numerous cracks all over its body, the cracks looking like hot flowing lava. _It_ was bulky and large, but not so much that _it_ was weighed down. _It_ was built for one thing, and that was to kill. The ball of light in _its_ chamber was more of a fuel source than a spark.

He hated a lot of things, but he hated _IT_ even more. He knew it wasn't there, but it was very hard to ignore it. It would watch, its burning optics burning through his armour. He couldn't do anything to get rid of it. This was what happened when he was sober, he had to deal with it. It was the embodiment of what he was trying to run away from, but it was too fast for him. That or he was finally going to stop running. Whenever he was sober, that option seemed to be extremely appealing.

He really, really needed a drink. Thankfully, Wheeljack was here. At least he could do something other than being annoying. The old mech wanted to get off his berth, but couldn't find the energy. He didn't have that kick that high grade gave. He gave a grunt in annoyance with how much effort it took to sit up. His unwanted phantasmic guest only watched his struggle like a freaky ornament.

After a few moments, he heard a knock on his door. With an irritated growl, he said they could come in. It was Bumblebee, so that was nice. It was better than Optimus, who he was very mad at.

*You ok?* Bumblebee beeped. Ratchet sighed and rubbed his helm, wishing that Prime wasn't being such pain as of late.

"No. Prime is under the delusion that he's my carrier and is keeping me from a much-needed drink. How about you?"

*I'm worried about you, you don't look well. Maybe you caught some kind of bug?* A parasite, more like it.

"We have enough creepy crawlies as is."

*Yeah, I guess we do have a bit of a cockroach issue we should fix.* He didn't have the effort to correct Bumblebee on what he really meant. *Raf's been asking about you a lot, he's really worried. He misses the lessons you were giving about our language and that kind of stuff.*

If it had been about any of the other humans, he probably would've ignored him. But, to his dismay, he found it hard to refuse the kid. Maybe it's because he regrets failing with his stepson and nephews? He didn't want to dwell on it, and he didn't want to stay in here any longer. If he remained, he'd surely go madder than he already was.

"I'm assuming he's here?" he growled, a certain itch starting on one of his servos again. It had spread further than just his servo, though. He would have to deal with that later. The young scout nodded his helm, likely smiling if he were able. Without wanting to show he was in any trouble, Ratchet got himself off the berth and stretched his joints. "Where is the little rascal, then?"

*He's in the common room.* Probably with the other two as well. Great. *Come on, slowpoke!*

He left the phantom in the corner like a suit of armour and followed the bundle of black and yellow. It didn't take long until he was in the common room, and he could tell instantly that not everyone was all that happy to see him. No, that wasn't worded right. It was more that they didn't like how he looked. He probably looked like scrap, so he went back to being stoic, hoping they'd just leave him alone like they usually do.

The human children were with the nurse again. She had a curious expression, one he didn't like. Miko was uncharacteristically quiet, so that was something to be worried about. Jack, however, looked mad. He didn't know why and didn't particularly care. The little spikey boy ran up to the railing with an unusually large smile on his face, like he was actually happy to see him. Why? He didn't really hide the fact he didn't like humans all that much. It was probably because he was young. He wouldn't be the first little scrap with poor vision who didn't get the message he wasn't really wanted.

"Bumblebee says that you're missing the lessons I'd been giving you." Thanks to being sober, he really needed something to take his mind off of everything.

It'd be a lot easier if he didn't remember nearly every detail of his life, another reason why he needed to be graded to get through the day.

"Really?" He had a massive grin on his face, the excitement clear in his voice. "I know you haven't been feeling great, so I tried doing a bit on my own. I know it's probably not all that good, but I didn't want you to think I was slacking."

*Told you!*

This was an extremely weird and alien situation to be in, but anything to ignore the silent _thing_ that had decided to replace itself in here. As the small boy ran over to be nearer the terminal where Ratchet was usually stationed at, it reminded him of a vaguely similar situation.

_"Hey, Ratch, whatcha doing?" said a young voice._

_Ratchet grumbled as he looked at the small silver mechling as he climbed onto the desk, shifting many papers and blueprints as he did so. His empty blue optics stared aimlessly, unable to focus for the mechling was as blind as a rock. His serrated shark-like teeth formed an innocent grin. Annoyed, Ratchet shoved him off the desk and went back to work, ignoring the little brat as he got back up._

_"You shouldn't do that," said an annoyed old voice._

_"He's fine, Hoist. Little scrap can take a beating."_

_"That doesn't mean you should contribute to it! Come on, Stormwire. Let's go and find your brother, I'm sure Soundwave has something for you." The large mech picked the smaller one up and glared viciously at Ratchet. "If it were up to me, I would've smelted you down and used you to make a chair."_

_"And if it were up to me, you'd be part of the lavatory. You'd fit right in with all the aft you kiss!"_

_Hoist scowled something fierce as he walked away, the small youngling in his arms waving goodbye like he hadn't been pushed off a desk twice his height._

He shouldn't have done that, and he didn't intend to repeat it.

"Show me what you've done so far."

* * *

Optimus was pacing. He had yet to inform Fowler of his intentions, but he was currently being grilled over the situation regarding his doppelganger. His side still hurt from where he had been impaled, but it would go away. The feeling of dread in his spark, however, wasn't going anytime soon. Fowler was going to be so angry the stars on his underwear were going to shoot off and return to the sky, probably in the formation of an eagle or lady liberty.

After a little while - actually it was 3 hours - Optimus saw as Fowler left the area 51 building. Fowler could see that the titan was anxious about something, so he decided to ask why.

"What's buzzing in your grill, Prime?"

"I'm going to contact Megatron soon." As he had predicted, Fowler lost his collective faecal matter and started shouting obscenities until he calmed down. "It is for a good cause."

"Unless he makes a damn good pizza, I'm not hearing it! There is no good cause when it comes to the shiny wart of satan's ballsack." What a delightful image.

"You're already aware that Ratchet isn't all himself, so I went to Griffin Rock to talk to the Rescue Bots. Heatwave gave me a clue, but I'll have to talk to Megatron to find out what it means. Then I'm one step closer to helping him and hopefully putting this behind us."

Actually saying it out loud made him sound crazy.

"I take it you didn't plug your phone in properly."

"I have been recharging, just a little less than before. I'm anxious over what might happen whenever I'm not at the base. What if he runs off again? What if something happens with the kids? What if-"

"What about the kids?" Scrap.

"Ratchet doesn't exactly like them."

"You're a damn bad liar, Prime. Exactly isn't meant to be in that sentence from how you're acting. If the kids are in danger-"

"They're not!" At least, he hoped not. "It's not his fault that he's not well. That's why I'm going to Megatron, so I can find a way to fix it."

"Prime, sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but this is sounding like a mental problem, and there ain't no fixing those. I'm no expert, but I've had family members whose chemicals fell off their respective tightrope. If this is something like that, Doc should be seeing professional help... which I'm guessing you don't have." The old man groaned as he wiped sweat from his forehead. "Look, if it really does help in some way, ask Buckethead if he's got anything actually useful. Don't expect much, ok?"

Fowler watched as Optimus all too excitedly went through a Groundbridge that opened as soon as he called for it. Meanwhile, Fowler could only contemplate what Optimus had told him.

He always had a feeling something was off with that one, and it reminded him all too well with his uncle, Samson. That wasn't a good thing since Sam hung himself when Fowler was but a boy. If their medic was dealing with something similar, he could understand why Optimus was so desperate to help. If Fowler could, he'd ask anyone to help his uncle, even if he hated their guts.

For their sake, he wouldn't mention this to the higher-ups, but he would be giving June a very long phone call.

* * *

Optimus was expecting nothing to have happened while he was away, but he had been proven wrong. Ratchet was up and seemed to be back to showing Raf how to read Cybertronian. At first, Optimus felt like barring any high grade had proven to be a good choice, but then he could see his optics. They were like that night in Yellowstone. If he were human, Optimus would compare them to being bloodshot. Every now and again, he'd glance off at the wall as if he was checking on something and then go back to what he was doing.

He didn't like to think about it, but he couldn't rule anything out. Was it possible that he was seeing something? Was that Encryptaryn directed at someone Optimus couldn't see or hear? That complicated things further, and only fueled his drive for answers. The medic seemed to notice his presence, and there was a disheartening amount of anger in them. That look had been worn once before, but his optics had been green when that happened. He wasn't happy about locking away the high grade, clearly.

"Hey, Optimus, how was it with the General?"

"All has been cleared up, they should be leaving us be." He smiled at his friend, who didn't return the favour. That hurt. "What's going on here?

"Ratchet's helping me again, he said I did alright on my own." The small boy seemed to really like the old medic, and from what he understood, he was the on a Ratchet tolerated the most. Maybe that could prove to be helpful?

Wheeljack was watching carefully and had yet to tell anyone that he had a weird feeling. Something about how Doc was acting made him think of that oddity that his teacher kept nearby. He called it hazardous for no other reason than its presence causing old mech Hoist to become extremely grumpy like he was angry the strange being was there. That _being_ terrified him when he was younger. He hoped that this familiar feeling would go away soon. It was making him anxious, and the others were getting a bit nervous around him as well. They knew he was sick, but Wheeljack felt like it was more than that, and it scared him.

"That's great to hear," Optimus said, pleased. "Bulkhead, Bumblebee, I'm going to need you two to come with me on a mission soon, alright?" They nodded, a little perplexed as to what Optimus could need them for. Little did they know that he intended for them to be back up in case things went south.


	7. Chapter 7

It had been a calm day on the Nemesis. The Lord of the Decepticons liked it that way. Today was not going to remain calm for long, though. It was going to be a very hard day after what he was going to do, and he was going to need some time alone. Soundwave, while mute, would voice the same. The large mech looked over at the large crates of Energon, inspecting their quality. They weren't for Megatron's cause, they were for the cause of a different kind, one that always made him feel sick afterwards.

"Are they prepared?" He asked, not looking at Knockout as he ticked off the number of crates on a datapad.

"Yep. Come now, big boys, use those pistons!"

"Can I shoot him, now?"

"No, Dreadwing, you can't shoot him. Not anywhere fatal, at least." Knockout just brushed off the empty threat and gave a very small smile at the joke hidden in the older mech's tone.

Soundwave prepared the Spacebridge and activated it. Once it was done, the stronger Vehicons pushed the crates through. After that was done, Megatron gave a singe nod towards Dreadwing telling him that he was in charge. Then he walked through along with Soundwave, leaving what he considered to be home to a very unhomely place he hated.

The dark walls of the Nemesis shifted to the bright walls of an infirmary outpost. It was several hundred thousand lightyears from earth's solar system, and during his three-year absence, he had stopped there to see how things were going. It had hurt more than he ever admitted to anyone, even Soundwave. The Vehicons were busy with the crates, leaving the two to progress through the large outpost. The sterile smell was suffocating, as was the feeling of over cleanliness.

The few nurses and doctors who worked here kept their helms down, knowing better than to bring attention to themselves. The respect, though reluctant, was appreciated. They knew why he was here and they were grateful for the supply of Energon he had just delivered to them. Through the maze of identical halls, they reached one specific room. Soundwave was a step behind Megatron, silently saying that he didn't want to go in. Megatron understood why, so he was on his own as he tapped on the door.

A couple of moments later, a large elderly mech opened the door. The mech had dark green as his primary colour, then a deep orange as his secondary. He was a tank, literally and figuratively. The mech had a dark protoform, which was uncommon, and he had deep yellow optics that were filled with irritation. As soon as the two locked optics, that drifted away into happiness.

"Ah, if it isn't my favourite mech to see. Oh, sorry, Sounder." Soundwave gave a small wave in response. "Well, don't just stand there like furniture, come on in!" The elder stood out of the way as his great-grandchild walked into the room, Soundwave staying where he was. He understood and closed the door. "Did you bring what I had asked?"

"You requested three crates, so I arranged for there to be six. It is better to be safe than sorry, Hoist." Hoist gave a light chuckle filled with both pride and disbelief. "You needn't be concerned about us, we have more than enough to spare. If you need any more, you can always contact me."

"You know, many of my nurses have called me mad for allowing you to come here, but how couldn't I?" Hoist sighed as he patted the mech's chest just over his emblem. "You've got your carrier's spark. Sabrestorm would be proud."

"I like to think she would be." His expression changed to something more sombre in nature. "Is she here?"

Hoist didn't need to ask what his great-grandchild had meant. He motioned the mech to follow him through another door out of his office and into the more secure section of the hospital. It was a nice shortcut he had implemented so he could get to those who really needed him a lot faster. There were multiple rooms filled with those who required help, and the Energon that Megatron had brought was greatly needed.

The two stopped at one door with the number 008 engraved on the top. Hoist pulled keys from his side and unlocked the door, allowing his great-grandson to enter first and then followed. Sitting in the corner was a helicopter femme, her blades twitching in anxiety as she was scribbling something that made sense only to her. After hearing the door close, she turned around, her single white optic staring them both with confusion.

It wasn't uncommon for the mental ward to hold those who were a victim of the empurata.

Megatron walked over to the femme and took a chair nearby and sat on it, taking a small glance at what she was drawing.

"It's a cyberfox," the femme said gleefully.

"It's a lovely cyberfox, Black." She looked at him curiously. "Black is a nickname."

"Black? I like it! Funny green mech, call me Black!" Hoist gave a nod to her demand.

"I'll be back in ten minutes, alright? Let us pray Soundwave isn't being flirted with again," Hoist chuckled as he shut and locked the door, leaving the two alone.

"So, what're you doing in here? You're a pretty spikey patient."

"I'm visiting, actually. Though if my brother had anything to say about it, he'd try and make me a patient." The white ring for an optic changed shape into what he decoded as a smile. "I was here a little bit ago, you know. It's been nearly four years since I last got to see your drawings."

"Did you like them?" He gave her a nod, earning another smile from her. "You'll like these ones!" Black Frequency opened a drawer and pulled out a pile of pictures she'd done, tossing them around to find what she was looking for. "Here it is!" She put it over her 'cyberfox' and showed it.

Clearly, the illness that had claimed his aunt wasn't able to affect her genius. She had scribbled the blueprints for a smaller and easier to make Spacebridge that could be fitted onto ships. he gave her an approving smile.

"It's wonderful." He forced himself not to react when the femme wrapped her arms around him, hugging tightly.

"Thank you! It was really fun, that one. You can have it, actually. Go on, put it on one of your sub-thingies." She waved her hands until he did, then she went back to her cyberfox. "You don't feel very spikey."

He watched as she continued drawing, every now and again twitching like her systems were freezing up or they were lagging. Black Frequency looked at him and handed him a pen, shaking it expectedly. Not wanting to upset her, Megatron took the pen and looked at the blank sheet she'd gotten from somewhere. He wasn't sure what to draw for her, so he just went for an animal. The last time he was here, she was obsessed with drawing solar systems, so he might as well go along with her interests, Since he doubted she'd ever see one, he started drawing an elephant. He wasn't sure why, but he knew she'd like it.

Black Frequency paused from her own to watch his like she was trying to guess what it was. It was like sitting with a small youngling. She tilted her head and even climbed onto his back to get different angles of the strange shape like it was a special code she was trying to decipher. While it wasn't anything great, it was good enough for her. Finally after doing a great impression of Airachnid on one of her weird days, Black finally asked what it was.

"This is a strange creature on a planet I'm on called an elephant. They have these tusks that the indigenous - humans - hunt them for because they believe that their tusks have magical properties." She giggled at the absurdity, tapping his shoulder to continue. "Because they're organic and live in a hot place, they make their own sunscreen using mud so they don't get burned. They have that long nose called a trunk like a hand, and they use it to suck up water to squirt into their mouths." She seemed to really enjoy the weird animal, so at least he'd chosen the correct creature.

"Can I keep it?" He nodded. "Write your name on it, silly. I don't want it to get mixed up with the other ones." Megatron was going to write the name he'd been using for aeons, but decided against it. She read what he'd written under it. "Here's an elephant for my favourite aunt, Stormwire." She seemed to change in mood as she stared at the words. For a moment, he was worried that he had upset her. "Stormwire..."

"I go by a different name, but that's my real one. My carrier gave it to me, my sire did too but it was mostly her. Her name was Sabrestorm."

The femme was looking at it intensely, unresponsive. He decided to let her, not wanting to startle her. Maybe she was going through one of her regression episodes? That happened last time. They were talking and then she asked how he had entered her room. Though he didn't dare tell anyone, he had to leave after that. Hoist didn't blame him, but it had still been upsetting.

"Stormwire... Tabby?"

Tabby had been her nickname for him when he was smaller. She was remembering something, this was a sign that Hoist's treatment was actually working. He didn't know how to react to such news. She turned back to him and he could only smile again. Coolant started to drip from her optic as she dropped the piece of paper onto the desk, shaking like a leaf.

"Hey, Black."

She jumped onto him, her helm against his spark chamber. All he could do was comfort her, so he wrapped his arms around her to keep her steady as she started to cry onto his chest. He had to fight not to join her, and he was pretty sure he was failing. He had been waiting for any sign of progress since this damn war started, and finally, he had gotten it.

"My baby, Tabby!" She wailed, her grip tightening. "You're nearly as big as your carrier." She reached a servo to cup his face, her digits moving a little bit behind his helmet. "You're such a handsome boy, little Tabby. Look at you, you're just so... Sabre would be proud."

"I..." He didn't have words. There were no words for the emotions he was feeling right now.

She slid off his form and went back to the picture, scribbling the nickname next to the one he'd written. Black Frequency sat on her chair, feeling her optic. He thought his spark would rip in half when she spoke again.

"Why am I crying?" She said, turning to face him. "Oh, hello, are you one of the nurses? You're a bit pointy."

That was enough for today. He said his farewell and walked to the door, seeing a sympathetic Hoist standing there. The elder stood out of the way and closed the door behind Megatron, not daring to mention that liquid joy and pain had wettened the lord's cheeks. Hoist knew that it was hard, he had to see his granddaughter like this every day. He knew that he was going to find a way to make her better, he just had to find out how.

"You know she didn't mean it." Having a strong feeling of what may come, Hoist guided Black's nephew back to his office, letting the much larger mech sit down. "You weren't this upset the last time. Did something happen?"

"She... she called me Tabby."

Hoist's spark fluttered with joy. She had remembered. Albeit brief, she had still remembered. His treatment was working, there was hope for her and all the others who had suffered this horrible plague of the mind. He knelt down and held onto one of the last remnants of his granddaughters, letting him work out the difficult turmoil. If Hoist knew that was going to happen, he wouldn't have put Stormwire through that. It would've been agonising for him, let alone the baby of the family, save for Black's mystery youngling.

Soundwave could sense that his brother was upset and came in, purposefully disabling his camera for the private moment. He didn't have the courage to see Black, didn't have the courage to have his spark ripped out at seeing her like that. As always, it was his little brother who bore the brunt of everything. He didn't know whether to be guilty or proud of that fact. For now, he would choose to be the latter.

* * *

Hundreds of thousands of lightyears away, the Nemesis received a transmission. Knockout and Breakdown looked at each other and shrugged, wondering what the Autobots could possibly be hailing them for.

Dreadwing's optics narrowed at the poor timing, but he was going to take his position as second in command seriously. He nodded at the two and how both sides could hear one another.

"What is it that you want, Autobots? Our lord is busy." He wouldn't say what Megatron was busy doing, most of the Decepticons were aware of their lord's tragedy regarding his aunt. Even if the base was in Autobot territory, he had the right to go there however often he wanted. Personally, Dreadwing wasn't sure if he'd be able to.

"I need to speak with him, call us on the number I will send you when he has returned," said the booming voice of Prime as he hung up.

"Sending us his number? I hope that the date he's planning will be good," Knockout jested, earning a slap upside his helm from Breakdown who just shook his helm at him. Knockout rolled his optics. "You were thinking about it, I just said it."

"Will you be quiet before I lock you in that hospital myself?" Dreadwing hissed in annoyance. "We will tell our lord about this in three days, let him cool down from the trip. Agreed?" The two nodded and then wandered off to probably make a mess of a storage closet. How Megatron hadn't killed all of these buffoons he had no idea.


	8. Chapter 8

Optimus was really, really getting on his nerves. The stupid mech likely meant well, but he just wanted to be left alone. It was just fine without him meddling in his affairs. Why did Ratchet care about Optimus, anyway? He wasn't real. Optimus was an accident birthed from the death of Orion and the fear-driven insanity of the Council. Not that they were sane, to begin with, but they really went off the edge with the threat of a Prime standing by Megatron's side. If that happened, their system would've fallen to bits.

Thanks to the high grade, Ratchet had purposefully clouded his judgement so he couldn't see why he was really with the Autobots. Without it, the answer was simple. Kill the Council. The old mech smirked at the very, very clear memories of how he did away with each and every one of the slaggers. That was why he was with the Autobots - revenge. Sweet, sweet revenge. He didn't start nor stop with them, either. No, that wasn't enough, he had to ensure everyone responsible for not only his existence but the suffering of others.

Well, he'd done away with _most_ of them. There was the one he hated the most that had yet to fall, and maybe that was why he hadn't deactivated himself yet. Unfinished business, so to speak. They were of little-

Dammit, he shouldn't be thinking of this. He shouldn't be thinking about going back. How could he go back? His nephews would kill him! And they had every right to, really, especially Megatron. The clarity that sobriety brought was causing the guilt in his spark to corrode its protective shell, shredding it to pieces. The war was his fault. Well, not entirely, but he had a lot of responsibility for it.

In the end, Hoist was right. It was a mistake to have saved his spark, or whatever was in place of it. He had ripped his nephew's spark into shreds, pushing him to be consumed by wrath and rage, and he had wanted it to happen. The mech's optics narrowed in self-disgust as he clearly recalled the reason he'd pushed him off the edge. He'd done it because he was too _soft_.

There had once been a time where Megatron would do all he could to avoid hurting others, but thanks to him, that was fixed. They weren't going to win against the Autobot terrorists if he refused to kill them while they had no such problem. At the time, it was logical. Hindsight was a glitch, given what happened afterwards. It was logical to contribute to his pain, logical to help Soundwave mute himself while he was grieving and it was logical to change sides to pursue his goal of revenge.

He'd trade his spark with Unicron if he could take it all back.

Was there a single choice in his life that wasn't selfish or downright stupid? It didn't seem like there was. With Hoist's encouragement, he went into the medical profession and tried to get rid of his nightmares by saving lives, an attempt to redeem his past. If anything, it only added to it. When he was patching up the injured soldiers, putting children back together, comforting those suffering from Cybonic Plague, he knew that it was his fault. Their pain was his fault, as were their deaths.

It was like yesterday when Moonracer rushed into his hastily put together outpost with a young mech that was bleeding out from the neck. It was the young scout who had been sticking around, delivering supplies to other outposts and warning them when the Decepticons were nearby. Before then, Ratchet had never paid any mind to the scout. It changed at that moment, and even though First Aid and Evac told him that the young one was beyond saving, he told them where to shove it.

Maybe that was why he liked Bumblebee. He was the one thing Ratchet did that wasn't for some stupid selfish reason. The little mech didn't know what Ratchet had done to save him, and that was probably for the best. During the surgery that nobody could help with, his spark had stopped. He didn't have the recourses to start it back up again, so he decided to do something that nobody except for a select few knew about.

He split his own spark.

See, his spark isn't actually a spark. It's similar to the fictional monster Miko told Bulkhead about called Frankenstein. While it looked like the normal size of a grown mech's, it was actually comprised of multiple sparks. They had been taken as soon as they came from the Well of Allspark just before they had time to grow a protoform around them, so they were quite small, which was why so many were needed to be able to make one as large as an adult's. The fact that you could 'sow' sparks together or split them apart is only known to a very select few, and he intended to keep it that way.

He didn't even think while doing it. He took a scalpel and, basically, cut through the invisible stitch to remove a piece. It hurt like the pit itself had decided to take a vacation in his chamber, but he went on with it anyway. That small piece was enough to jumpstart the scout's own again. It gave him time to do what he could with the little recourses he had to help the scout.

Every time he saw the young mech, he would be reminded of how much that hurt, but also that he had been able to save a life that was supposed to die. He didn't have to do that, he probably shouldn't have, but he did. It didn't take away from the fact that he was a monster in every sense of the word, but the idea that he'd saved a single life while possibly risking his own was strangely calming.

He wasn't just staying for that goal anymore, he was staying for the scout, the very one that he was willing to give his cog to.

"How many languages are there?" Asked Rafael curiously. "Primal Vernacular can't be the only other one, right?"

"There've been a few," he admitted, thinking about them. "Most of them have been forgotten to time, only the very ancient or those who have a lot of free time on their hands know them. The two that come to mind first is Pythanic and Codetrianyll."

"Could I learn those too, someday?"

"Given how you've progressed with Neocybex, it's a possibility."

Bumblebee was fond of the small one, so for his sake, maybe he would make a little bit more of an effort. When the other two weren't around, he was actually fine. It was likely a group mentality which he found very interesting. Humans, if in a group, were more likely to participate in, say, a crime than if they were on their own. It's some kind of social pressure. Psychology wasn't his strong suit, but it was still interesting to read about. Maybe that was why Miko was so damn grating on his nerves, she was showing off to the other two. It didn't explain what Jack's problem had been, lately.

Jack seemed to catch on that Ratchet wasn't fond of them, or maybe that ginger-haired kid was giving him problems. Vincent was the name that they threw around, a bully type. His behaviour reminded Ratchet of Thunderhoof, the aft that he was. Anyone who reminded him of that spike was immediately a piece of garbage in his mind.

_"Where's my half!"_

_"You're half? There is no 'your half'. You work for me, and I only give you what I deem fitting. You were told to burn down the building and you didn't, so you don't get your half. Sorry, that's business."_

_"You stupid __blue __horned spawn of a glitch! You better give me my damn half or it'll be you that's on fire!"_

_"Oh? You think you can just threaten me and walk away?"_

_"In case you haven't noticed, Thunder, I don't walk away from fire, I go right into it. You don't scare me, and neither does Sentinel. So, you pay me my half or __esaeu gia!"_

_"Death threats now? Hm... Fine, I'll pay your half, but only if you do one thing."_

_"What?"_

_"There's a femme who has cheated me out of quite a lot of credits. She and her mate are hiding in Vos, and lots of accidents happen in Vos. They should have a safe, whatever is left in there will be yours as well as your half, but I want their charred remains. Understand?"_

_"Are there younglings?"_

_"Just one little two-wheeler. Do what you want with her, I don't care. I expect their remains to be at my pedes by the end of tomorrow."_

Thunderhoof was scum and while he tried to cheat him out of pay, he was a somewhat reliable source of income. He regretted getting involved with the stupid reindeer looking scrapheap.

"You alright?"

"I was just reminded of something, it's fine." Maybe Vincent's car should have an accident? He could use some spare parts lying around in case anything broke down. he smiled inwardly at the idea. "I'm going to download an old news article from a long time ago and I want you to try translating it to the best of your ability without the help sheet. We'll see how far you've progressed and then we can work from there."

The young boy looked pleased with the challenge and looked to his laptop as the file was sent to him. He didn't even need to be told to start, he was already going off like a rabbit being chased by a dog. It was bizarre to see someone be happy in his presence, almost alien. He put it to humans being overly social. It was odd at how social they were, it was probably due to them being a very young species.

Humans only lived for eighty or so years, barely anything at all to their kind. Bumblebee was sparked before the meteor eradicated the dinosaurs, and he was the equivalent to an early twenty-something-year-old. What would that make the others? Bulkhead would probably be in his late thirties or early forties, Arcee was likely in her late forties somewhere, Optimus would be early thirties, and Wheeljack would likely be late-thirties.

What a strange thing to contemplate?

"What's it about? The news article, I mean."

"That's for you to find out." Rafael was happy about something and it couldn't involve him. "You're rather joyous today."

"My sister is pregnant, so I get to be an uncle soon."

Ratchet recalled the photo on the young man's phone of his family, which was comprised of several members. The two eldest would be the parents, a husband and wife. There were five siblings, and out of the two females, only one of them could've been pregnant, unless the toddler had already started ovulating. From the familiar facial features, the elder sister was very likely adopted.

"The adopted one, I hope." The young boy made a chuckle, event hough it wasn't meant to be a joke.

"Do Cybertronians get pregnant?"

"Yes, actually. Usually, it's between femmes and mechs, but sometimes if they're bonded, mechs are able to become pregnant. We call it carrying, but it's the same thing."

"Do you have reproductive parts, then?"

"Yes. While we call them different things, they are basically the same. There're two ways you can wind up carrying," he said, noting Rafael's multi-tasking. "There's the usual way I'm sure you're already aware of, and then there's the other way. While interfacing, sometimes mecha open their spark chambers and the sparks connect. The way that you wind up carrying effects on how the infant grows. Through the more common way, the infant will grow over the course of three years. Through the other way, it'll be four years and that infant has a higher chance of being a prodigy, so to speak."

"Which one were you?" He didn't have an answer. "Sorry, I know you don't like talking about yourself."

He didn't have an answer because he couldn't. He wasn't...

_"__Dabbimayq!"_

The sudden surge of anger he felt from that word caused him to hit the terminal, leaving a deep dent. He forced himself not to make another one but needed to remove himself from the situation immediately. He could feel that something was wrong, he hadn't heard that voice in Encrptaryn in so long... But before he could do any of that, his vision suddenly cut to black.

* * *

_Black doors._

_The black doors were frightening to them all. If you went inside, there was no telling if you would come back out. As heavy and thick as they were, you could still hear the continuous screeching. It sounded like metal being routinely slashed against metal. Every now and again, the origin of the screeching would stop, only to start back up again a few moments later. Nobody would dare speak in fear that they would be next._

_All but one. __They looked at the doors, standing there like a pillar of stone. They were waiting with infinite patience, completely unmoving and as silent as space. They were unaware that their inability to do more than that when in the laboratory disturbed the others. Finally, the pregnant silence was broken._

_"__It's been five hours, how much longer is Upblast going to be in there for?" said an angry Waterlog. _

_The mech was a deep crimson red with very dark orange optics, his body designed to be resistant to chemicals as well as able to replicate them to spray them in his targets faceplates. He was bulky, but most of it was for storage so he was never out of whatever he needed to fight. To keep He constantly absorbed moisture in the air and directed it to his cooling tanks which helped his fans keep from overheating. _

_He appeared to be worried about Upblast, the nickname given to the one who was able to levitate. _

_They all had special abilities that were what made them valuable to Father. Waterlog, for example, could absorb any chemical he came into contact with and replicate it, his preferred one being highly corrosive acid. Upblast's was levitation, letting him fly even though he was a grounder. It was frightening for them to look at those doors, knowing what was behind them._

_Then the screaming stopped. There was no slope where the screaming got quieter from exhaustion, nor was there any panting. It was completely silent, meaning only one thing. Upblast was dead. All but one grit their denta in terror and anger, the odd one out unable to register such things. _

_"That bootleg..." Growled Thunderhoof, his servos turning to fists as coolant started to envelop his red optics. "How long are we going to wait until we leave?"_

_"Leave? Leave and go where?" Said the second smallest of them, Octohover. _

_Octohover was black and covered in millions of silvery sensors, making her look like space itself. Her body was possibly the most unnatural out of them all. She had six arms that were not actually connected to her body, the joints only held together through a magnetic field, hence why she needed to many sensors. Everything from her shoulder to her digits looked as if they had been cut off and were just floating there, similar to how some substances are when in water. Her legs, like her arms, were connected by a magnetic field, and she didn't have pedes like the rest of them, just two blue stumps that kept her from ever touching the group. On her mostly blank face were two very expression white optics with neon blue rings being the only way to tell where she was looking._

_She was one of the most interesting to look at._

_"Anywhere but here," Thunderhoof spat, the rage clear in his voice and optics. "I don't know we'd do, but it's better than-"_

_The doors opened and they all stood in a line, standing completely still as the oddity had already been doing. A very, very old mech stalked towards them, Energon staining his servos. The monster that terrified them called itself Alchemist Prime, though they knew that what he really was, was a shadow. Alchemist had messed with something he didn't understand, a dark purple kind of Energon and it had resulted in what stood before them. Since he wasn't actually Alchemist Prime, they called him Al. It made him a little less frightening to them._

_"Better than what, 554?" Thunderhoof lowered his helm at the utterance of his 'number'. Al looked at them all, then back to Thunderhoof, "889, 612 and 003, you will be assisting me. Clearly, 554 is in need of repairs if it is malfunctioning." Waterlog and Octahover looked at each other in surprise, for Al had never had more than two of them in behind the Black Doors before._

_Not daring to defy Al, the four followed him through, leaving behind their confused and scared brethren. And as they had expected, it was a complete horrorshow in Al's favourite place to be._

_Laying on a berth was what had remained of Upblast, his mutilated and deformed body now no longer recognisable. Three of them shook while one of them stood still. Al undid the restraints and pulled the husk off like Upblast was a piece of garbage and waited for Thunderhoof to take his place. He didn't want to. He was afraid to, knowing what would happen on that berth. No, it was a table of horrors._

_"I... I can't-" Al grabbed Thunderhoof by the antler and threw him onto the berth, whistling for the other three to come over. He ordered Waterlog and the silent mech to hold him down. "I can't do this again!"_

_"889, I want you to observe. You'll be on the berth, soon."_

_Octahover shook as she could only watch as Al began his 'work'. No matter what, Al always believed that they were perfect enough, that they could always be improved. He said that they had to be online during his upgrades, and they had long forgotten the excuse given. They knew he enjoyed it to some extent. He would open them up and take pieces out to either replace or to add onto, and they weren't even given the courtesy of having their pain receptors disabled. That wasn't even the worst part._

_When one 'expired' Al would use their pieces. Thunderhoof had been close to Upblast, so having some of his parts implanted him was ripping his mind apart. Waterlog tried to quietly comfort him, but it was hard to hear over the screams or sobs. It was all they could do until Al was finished. Something that took four hours._

_Al ordered them to leave and they did so, not wanting him to be angry with them. Thunderhoof hadn't even needed an 'upgrade', he just did it to punish him. Waterlog put his arm around the shaking mech as he gripped his freshly sealed abdomen in pain, but he refused to make a sound. They guided him to a bench to lay down on, and the black mech watched on quietly._

_"Cross, sit down." He did so, letting Waterlog move Thunderhoof's helm to lay on the black mech's lap. The dark mech looked at him, silently observing his behaviour. Waterlog rubbed his optics, feeling sick from what had happened. "He's right, we can't do this for much longer. We have to go. I don't know when but we have to escape."_

_"It's not exactly like we can plan anything, Waterlog," Octahover growled. "Al will just..." She didn't need to say as she looked at Thunderhoof as he slipped into unconsciousness. "What do we do?"_

_"Solution to problem - make a new language," the black mech finally added._

_"Frag it, we'll make our own," Waterlog smirked. "We'll call it Primal Vernacular, just to make them mad."_

* * *

That was weird, he hadn't seen anything like that in a while. He felt unusually sick like he'd been on that table. It was ridiculous. He wanted a drink, that would make him feel better. Where was he? It didn't look like his quarters, everything was blurry. His optics and audio receptors must've shut down while... wait, why did they shut down? That wasn't right. Wasn't he talking with Raf about something?

The mech sat up, rubbing his aching helm. He was drained from seeing that. Thunderhoof was a giant aft, sure, but he didn't really deserve that. Nobody did. It made him feel sick just thinking about it. He didn't feel bad about killing the mecha that helped him - if anything he felt great for doing it. Halogen wasn't the worst, but his demise felt incredibly satisfying.

"Hey!" Shouted someone, agitating his confused audio receptors. Whoever it was had earned themselves a punch to the faceplate. Before that, he covered his optics from the glaring light.

Sensitivity to light, confused audio receptors, internal chronometer unable to determine the time and lethargy were signs of someone coming out of stasis, these were all normal. Only, he'd never gone into stasis. He remembered being angry one moment, and then he was in a place he tried hard to forget about. Just the mere thought was making his entire body vibrate with either rage or fear, most likely both.

As his optics became fully functional, he could see that everyone was watching him. From the position, he knew he was on the berth. There was a sudden flash to that Energon stained metal slab and it caused him to jump, falling onto the ground. He really, really wanted that damn drink, as something to squad down the very powerful desire to run away.

Why was he acting like such an idiot? They were all gone, it shouldn't matter anymore. Was it because he knew that Al was still out there? That couldn't be it. No, it had to be something else. His vision had blurred again, confusing him. That wasn't supposed to happen. He ran an internal diagnostic to find the cause, but it only came up with errors. He felt someone - probably more than one - lift him up to put him back on the berth. His glossa was very dry and felt like it was rusting, not to mention he was stuck with a taste that can only be accurately described as dogshit. He'd never tasted such a thing and never intended to, but it felt right.

There was a bubbling feeling he recognised all to well and pushed whoever was rubbing his shoulder, probably harder than he intended. A moment later, anything in his tanks was expelled and painted the floor. The taste was only worse. He rubbed his helm again, that headache only getting worse.

"Ratchet," Optimus said, getting his friends' attention.

He was sicker than he had imagined. According to Rafael, he became angry over something and then collapsed. What had happened was a stress-induced reboot, something that was very uncommon. He had been in and out of consciousness for a couple of days, and it looked like he was struggling with exhaustion, even in deep recharge. It was like every intake was a considerable effort, and he was terrified.

"Can I have that drink now?"

"You've been out for four days and all you have to say is you want some high grade?" Arcee questioned. "You're worse than Wheeljack."

"In case you haven't noticed, I've been feeling scrap since you all decided you were my caregivers. Speaking of which, you can all go frag yourselves and your unwanted help."

"You sent yourself into a reboot, Doc, you know better than any of us how bad that is," Wheeljack said, concern evident in his voice.

"Yes, well, I would've been a whole lot better if you hadn't gotten here. Everywhere you go, you ruin everything. Don't think that I don't know that you have been giving Optimus 'advice' as if you had any idea what the frag was going on."

Ratchet didn't mean what he said, he was just so damn tired of all of this, but he didn't have the energy to apologise. He covered his optics again, feeling that he might be sick again.

"Don't take it personally, Jackie, he's just not himself at the moment," Bulkhead said, patting his best friend on the side.

*I'll let Raf know you're up, he's been texting me to know if you were alright. You'd be proud, he's doing it in Cybertronian! the grammar needs a bit of work but he's doing it!* Bumblebee beeped with pride, the protometal under his optics scrunching up to show what should be a smile on his faceplate. The black and yellow mech walked off to call his human partner, which made Ratchet feel even worse.

He probably terrified the life out of that small human, knocked off a couple of his very few years. There was a weird groan infused growl noise that was laced with venomous regret and anger, which took a bit longer than it should for him to realise he had made that noise. He wanted all of this to go away, it was getting just too much. He felt like he was just going to breakdown and sob like an infant if he didn't have something to make all of this go away.

"Get me that damn drink before I rip someone's spark out!" He shouted desperately, hitting the wall next to him.

Multiple optic ridges rose as a very deep hole now adorned the stone wall, along with a crack that went several metres up like some demonic tree root. They looked at the dent in the main terminal and then the one made when he'd pushed Bulkhead into the table, there was even a bit of a mark on his front armour. The old medic was stronger than he looked and he didn't appear to have much control over it.

"I can't do that," Optimus said sorrowfully, trying to keep optic contact. When Ratchet returned from wherever he had been in the depths of his haunted mind, it was something that gave the Prime shivers. The sudden jump he'd made was purely instinctual, the desire to get away. As this was going on, even Optimus didn't want to know but knew he had to. "For now, you're going to stay here and get some much-needed rest. You're tired." He looked like he was going to cry, and Optimus felt the same way. "We'll find a way to help, even if it means dragging Unicron here by the spike."

There was a light chuckle of amusement, but under it, Optimus could hear doubt. Well, he was looking forward to proving him wrong. At least, he hoped so.


	9. Chapter 9

The tunnels of New York were thick and stuffy, the dust surely bound to clog up their fans. Knockout was constantly looking at his pedes as decades upon decades of dirt tuck to his finish. No matter where he went, it seemed that he was a magnet to the stuff. He hissed in anger as he tried wiping some of it off, looking a little foolish to a bored Airachnid. The femme didn't know why Megatron had ordered her to be with Knockout and Breakdown, but she could tolerate it. That's what she did when it came to the boys, she tolerated them.

Until they had served their purposes, anyway.

"It's nearby," Breakdown said, frowning at the scanner in his servo. "At least, I hope so. We've been wandering down here for nearly an hour and I'm sure Knockout is about to lose his mind over the dirt."

"Why even bring the clean freak?" Airachnid asked, mostly to herself.

"He's not a clean freak, he's just very self-conscious about how he looks. Offroad is calling more frequently so he's under some duress."

"Why don't you just tell Megatron? One glare and he'll send Offroad into a figurative ditch."

"Because we shouldn't have to go to Megatron whenever we have family problems. We need to find the middle ground between dependent and independent."

"And you fools wonder why I like to be on my own."

The blue mech stopped and pointed towards the wall, raising an optic ridge. He transformed his servo into a hammer, but Airachnid lowered it with a big smirk on her face. He backed off, knowing better than to question who was the better digger. As the femme began to do that really weird looking drill thing, Breakdown turned to his partner who looked utterly miserable.

"I want to see Black," he said, catching Breakdown off guard. "Hoist is really, really busy so Black doesn't get all the attention she should. I'm just wondering if it's possible that we could do something about it."

"Ok?" This was very unexpected. "What are you planning?"

"Planning? What do I look like, Starscream?" Knockout huffed, appearing offended by the mere idea that he would be scheming something. "We have the Cortical Psychic Patch, we have more tools than we know what to do with, we have far more staff, and best of all, we have her nephews. Hoist can tell us what to do and since you're training in psychiatry, it'd be great for you!"

"This is something we should bring up with Megatron since he's the one who has any leeway over what happens with Black Frequency. And I suspect this has something to do with her missing youngling. You've been weirdly baby crazy the past few weeks." The red mech shrugged in response. "You planned that just to forget about the fact you've got a little bit of mud on your pedes, didn't you?" He nodded unashamedly.

Airachnid watched the two, already finished digging into the spot that Breakdown had chosen. Watching those two was always a source of amusement, the little she could feel, anyway. There were times where she would think about what love might feel like, but it had never been something she cared all that much about. Emotions were such annoying things, she didn't know why everyone didn't just shadowplay themselves to make their lives easier. For a while, she suspected Megatron of being like her, but he was weirdly the more emotional mecha she had ever met.

How does one lead an entire faction with such emotions and not wind up a snivelling coward like Prime? As her carrier had enforced, emotions were for the weak and no true leader should be hindered by them. How was it that they had gotten so far? The Autobots - not that they'd admit it - were losing. In terms of ratios, they had already lost. How was it that many of the Decepticons could pass as Autobots if they changed their emblem? She'd joined under the impression that they were as unfeeling as her.

Oh, and because her kind was being oppressed, there was that as well.

"Are you two finished?" The femme said, gaining their attention. "I dug the hole, you get it out.

Knockout walked over and used his headlights to shine into the fairly large hole, squinting his optics for anything that would be out of place. One of the stones caught his optic, so he moved it and a few others to uncover the shine of a capsule. With a grin, he reached in and pulled it out, investigating it to check for any traps. It looked fine, but it was better safe than sorry. After the check, Knockout opened it, finding a device that looked a lot like a watch.

"All of that work for a watch?"

"What work? You just stepped around like you were walking on hot coal like a buffoon," Airachnid said dryly as she took the device out. It activated, two clasps opening and awaiting to attach to someone. Not wanting to die or be harmed by whatever it was, she casually shoved it on Breakdown's wrist.

"You glitch!" He shouted, waving his arm to get it off. She only grinned menacingly, imagining him being covered in feathers like one of those funny little peafowls. They were called chickens, or was it pheasants? Some kind of avian.

"Stop being a youngling, I'll get it off," Knockout said as he reached for it... and his optic ridge rose as his servo passed right through. "You turned my mate into a ghost!"

"Should I get the ouji board?"

"Don't you dare, Shelob!" Breakdown spat. "This is obviously some kind of Phase Shifter, I read about it somewhere. It was designed after Tireburn, one of those scary Quantum Raiders." Knockout looked at it, his unusually alabaster faceplate unknowingly telling breakdown that he wanted to play with it. "Airachnid, would you do the honours of calling Megatron?"

* * *

In all the aeons that had existed, nobody had seen a Prime pace before. Arcee honestly just wanted everything to go back to how it was before, back when everything was simpler. The Autobots were good and the Decepticons were evil, they had to kill the Decepticons to save Cybertron. All they had to do was win. But then everything had to be complicated. Optimus seemed to be losing his mind over this, all of them could see it. He wasn't recharging, he wasn't even thinking about the Iacon Database, his entire processor was focused on their sick medic.

The worst part was that Arcee knew about the problem even before they came to Earth. The two of them hadn't really met before Earth, but Cliffjumper had. There was something off between them like there was a secret that neither of them was willing to talk about. When they were alone, Cliffjumper would tell her about how much of a nutcase the medic was, he even went as far to accuse him of being a Decepticon in disguise because of something he never went into much detail over.

She hadn't taken it very seriously since Cliff had a tendency to exaggerate, but she was seeing it more and more. The more pieces that were provided, the less it made sense. What was Encryptaryn? What was so bad that Ratchet couldn't talk about? How did he have the strength to push Bulkhead into a table and break it, not to mention the very large crack in the wall the children could all fit in. He only had that kind of strength when...

That must be it. She wasn't sure how, but somehow it had to involve Synth-En. Maybe that was all this was? He never stopped using it, just in lesser amounts. That would make only a little more sense, as it still didn't explain the strange language they heard every now and again. She didn't even know that this language existed, and her carrier had been a philologist as well as a historic linguist.

Never had Skyskribe, when she was still alive, ever mentioned anything like it. She was also curious to know where he had even heard of it. Maybe he heard it from the very reason they were standing in this greyish canyon with a large pile of the re-killed undead behind them. It was extremely weird and even though it'd been nearly a year since Megatron had revived those poor sparks, it still felt wrong being here.

Speaking of him, what could he possibly know that could help? Optimus seemed to think that the tyrant knew something. She didn't see the point. He was probably just going to tell them something they already knew or would flat out lie for the fun of it. He was a lying monster with a silver glossa hiding like a snake behind those unnatural sharp denta.

Far from their position, a Groundbridge opened. It was a very nice change of colour compared to the deathly grey that was burning her optics, but it wouldn't last. There the mech stood in all of his 34ft of un-glory. He had some strange contraption on his wrist, but she didn't really care. With him were Dreadwing and Breakdown, the latter looking odd without the little red parasite.

The lord of the Decepticons was most curious as to why Prime wanted his presence. He had already given his subordinates a verbal thrashing for not informing him of this over a week ago, but in some ways, he was thankful. Even now, he could feel the residual sting that the event with Black caused. Hoist was giving more frequent updates, and Knockout had given him an idea after their venture into the underground that he would think more about later. Right now, he had this to deal with.

"What is it that you want, Prime?" Dreadwing asked for him.

"I have a question of great importance." Megatron rose an optic ridge, curious as to what could be so important. "What is Encryptaryn?"

That was something the large mech hadn't heard in a long time, not since Wingwraith, his ex-bodyguard as well as being an ex in general. He hadn't thought about that mech since Megatron learned that he had been behind the Grindcore fiasco, which enraged him even now. What lunatic would make such a place? hey had finite recourses that shouldn't be wasted on a torture hotel that was designed from Megatron's deepest nightmares.

"It's an ancient language," Megatron started, wanting to see where this was going. "It was the very first, actually. While its true name is mostly lost to time, it is known by some other names - Glossa of Unicron, Voice of Primus, Language of the Primes and Echo of the Dead. Only a very few know of its existence, even fewer are able to speak it. Iq iz o haeq aem mur, yaeuks."

This was the first time that they'd heard the language spoken above a whisper or mutter, and it sounded _wrong_. It was like every utterance shook their sparks in the wrong way, proving its power. How did Megatron know it? How did Ratchet know it? Optimus was getting more and more frustrated as this journey went on. He was borderline ready to get on his knees and pray for a straight answer.

"How do you know it?" Arcee asked. "This language is supposedly as old as Primus himself. We know you're not that old, so how could you possibly know it?"

"You've obviously never heard of the Quantum Raiders," Dreadwing smirked. From their instantaneous freezing, they did.

Everyone knew about the Quantum Raiders. It was a nickname given to them by the citizens during the siege of those blasted hideous squids. They were not large in number but were enormous in quality. They could do things many tried replicating today and failed. The device on his wrist was inspired by one of these tragic marvels. Anyone who had the time to really learn about them would know that they were tragic in every sense of that word. It was strange that you could be both terrified of them and pity them at the same time.

"My ex-bodyguard, Wingwraith, used to be one such being - Onyxreaper." The mech who had the ability to take the sparks of others, directly responsible for the Spark Extractor. Hoist hadn't been very happy about the relationship, and he was happy that Hoist didn't gloat over the fact he had correctly predicted that Wingwraith would end up breaking his spark, though neither of them thought he would go to the extent he would. "He is how I know Encryptaryn and how I also know it was the Quantum Raiders who invented Primal Vernacular. Anything else, Prime?"

Optimus was unsure what to say. He had gotten the answer he wanted, as well as a lot more. This explained why Wingwraith was so powerful and near unbeatable, he was _built_ to be that way. They were fortunate the living relic wasn't here or they would be in a lot of trouble. Suddenly, he had a strange thought come to mind.

How did Heatwave know about this?

"This is about Ratchet, ain't it?" Breakdown suddenly said.

The three were stunned into silence. Wheeljack had already been silent, he was just plain stunned by Breakdown's matter of fact question.

"Is there something I should know?" Megatron said, turning to the smaller of the three.

"You mean what happened in the forest," Dreadwing added. The gold and blue flier turned to the Prime, starting to understand the situation a bit better. "While using him for bait, he started to have a panic attack. Breakdown calmed him down somewhat and then we went on our way with the prizes he helped us procure."

Megatron had known that they captured some mech operatives, but he didn't know _that_ was how they managed. He also found it strange for the old medic to have a panic attack of all things. Out of everything Hoist said about him and from what Megatron had seen for himself, Ratchet was more likely to cause them than have one himself. This correlated with Optimus' look of desperation, so something was up.

"I think he might've said something?" Breakdown said as he thought about it. "Mosar main asa shodong? Dunno, it as hard to hear from the hyperventilating."

Megatron didn't correct him, having heard that phrase multiple times when Wingwraith had nightmares. There was only one way for that medic to know that phrase, and it turned his earlier preconceptions of him on their head. He never thought there would be a day where he pitied that aft, and yet, here he was. Hoist probably knew, Shockwave likely did as well. One of Sabrestorm's greatest accomplishments was also one of her greatest failings. Out of the roster, _that one_ shouldn't have been given things such as guilt.

"What does it mean?" Optimus said, his spark racing at the change in Megatron's expression. Heatwave was right, he did know. He knew enough to have pity across his faceplate, which was something he wasn't familiar with. It took a bit, but the other two seemed to catch on. "What. Does. It. Mean." It wasn't even a question now, it was a demand.

There was only one way that Optimus could've known about this since Ratchet wouldn't dare tell him, meaning it must've been Heatwave and Chase. He knew those two very well. In fact, he still owed Heatwave a favour, didn't he? Brushing that aside, Megatron formulated a way to help. He knew Optimus better than he knew himself, and he could see the terror, desperation, sorrow and worry in both his voice and optics.

"O xnaeyabbi aem nph iz aer ya naeyt aem ya xing. Say that to him and there will be some form of improvement. It's his place to tell you what it means." There was something else that might help, though he was doing this for her sake. "And you can tell him that Black has shown some kind of progression."

"Black? You mean Black Frequency," Wheeljack audibly concluded, earning a nod from the large mech. "What would you know about her condition?" He spat, not liking that the sister of his teacher was seen by this beast.

"I was delivering a shipment of Energon to Health Outpost Ivory-16 last week and decided to see how she was doing as it'd been nearly four years since my last visit. I have every right to see how my aunt is fairing."

That was a large punch to the gut for them. Megatron was very much amused by their reaction, and not surprised that Ratchet failed to mention it. If he were in that position, he wouldn't mention it either. The two of them didn't like each other very much, and their complicated relationship was even more complicated thanks to this meeting. With that, Megatron decided that it was enough for today and didn't even need to say anything for the two to know time was up. Dreadwing went back first, not even giving a wave as Breakdown did.

There were no words that could be said between the two, so Megatron gave a silent farewell as he went through the swirling circle of colour. Then it was gone, the suffocating greyness back in full force, as well as the bombshell he'd dumped on them.

"Are you fragging kidding me!?" Wheeljack yelled, kicking a conveniently large rock off into the distance.

Arcee was conflicted. More than that, she was downright confused. Megatron didn't have feelings, so why did he suddenly seem so sad? Optimus hadn't told him what was happening, but he seemed to know. Maybe it was due to the fact he was Ratchet's _nephew_. That was going to take a while to sink in, and out of everything he kept to himself, she understood that one.

"O xnaeyabbi aem nph iz aer ya naeyt aem ya xing..." Optimus repeated, also confused.

Megatron was Ratchet's nephew, the son of Wheeljack's teacher. He knew Ratchet better than Optimus did, and that made him furious. It shouldn't, but it did. It was just something that had to be added to the weight on his shoulders in search of the truth. Somehow, whatever Megatron had said was supposed to help. He was tempted not to say it, but what else was he supposed to do? As much as he hated it, he had to trust Megatron.

At the end of this, he was going to need a drink.


	10. Chapter 10

Optimus had been repeating that awful sounding sentence to make sure he didn't mess it up. It wasn't easy, though. Repeating the words in his processor alone made him feel ill, let alone repeating it out loud. Maybe it was because he was finally getting closer to what happened. The tall mech walked through the corridor of his base, and he felt like the walls were closing in on him. It was probably because he hadn't been able to recharge lately.

He had waited until everyone was either recharging or out of the base. Wheeljack and Arcee were in his ship, the two likely talking about what they had learned a few hours ago. They hadn't told the others yet, it would've just caused problems. Optimus didn't want even more of those than he already had, all of which were making him sympathise with the greek mythology man called Atlas.

He stopped at a specific door, knowing that it was going to be a very tough night. He would usually knock, but he knew there wouldn't be an answer. Optimus opened the door and stepped inside, his frown growing when he saw that Ratchet wasn't in his berth. The older mech was ignoring him, looking at a datapad and reading something. Optimus closed the door and observed the room. It wasn't the first time he'd been in here, but he noted that a lot of things had been removed. He had hidden them somewhere, though he wasn't sure why that was necessary.

"I saw Megatron today." There wasn't a response. "He told me about Encryptaryn. That got his attention.

"And what would he know?" The other mech spat viciously, though Optimus was sure that it was more exhaustion than actual malice.

"A lot. More than I imagined he would." Optimus sat on the berth and could feel that it wasn't used very often. He shouldn't be surprised by that. "He said that Black has improved." Optimus looked down after hearing the datapad crack. "He didn't give specifics, but she's doing better."

"Better than severe short term memory loss? She can't even remember her own name, there isn't going to be anything to fix that."

Optimus could hear how upset he was over it. He felt horrible for bringing it up, but as her mate, he had a right to know it was possible for her to get better. It sounded like he was saying that to himself, trying to convince himself that she wasn't going to get better. It was sad, which wasn't anything new. Even so, he pressed on.

"That is not all that Megatron said, Ratchet." He paused, waiting for his friend to show a sign he was listening. It took a long while, but the older mech finally turned his chair to face Optimus. Somehow, he looked worse. He was at the breaking point, so maybe this was a better time than any. "O xnaeyabbi aem nph iz aer ya naeyt aem ya xing."

Ratchet didn't understand. That couldn't be right, they were all supposed to be gone. He was the only one left, wasn't he? How could any of that be possible? There was no way that another one was alive, let alone here. He gripped his helm, trying to wrap his processor around it. There aren't supposed to be any others alive! Sentinel said that they had all been destroyed in his final words, there couldn't be more...

He looked at Optimus who was still seated, and he could see that Optimus was tired. This whole time, Optimus had been trying so hard to help and it was taking its toll. His one friend and he was pushing him to be where he was right now. He didn't know what to say, his jaw shut so tight it felt like he had magnets in his mouth. He had spent so long believing that he was the only one after Crystal City's fall that he didn't know what to do with what Optimus had given him.

Optimus moved. His friend as in a state to where he was slipping in and out of being here and somewhere else, so he used it to guide him to his berth. After a couple of moments, he appeared to have realised that he'd moved. He looked at Optimus, confusion burning in his optics. Optimus didn't want to ask what it meant, he'd have to wait. Pushing wasn't going to help, even though he really, _really_ wanted to.

"He said that I'm not alone." Optimus thought about it. He couldn't be talking about them, they rarely left him alone after what had been going on lately.

"You'll never be alone."

"Not that way!" He snapped. "I'm not like you. I'm..." He got up out of frustration, biting his lower lip as his arms started to violently itch. What the pit was he doing here if there was someone who actually understood out there? Were more of them alive? Were they also on this mudball? If not, where else were they? If more of them were around, did they do what he did or something else like Thunderhoof?

"Not like me?" From the tone and the pacing, it felt like he meant that in the very literal sense. Optimus was hesitant to but he stood up to stop him from pacing. Optimus gripped his upper arms, unable to hide the fear and feeling of helplessness on his faceplate. "Not like what, Ratchet? You know me better than everyone else here, I won't judge you."

"How can you say you won't judge me? You should!"

"You haven't given me a reason to."

"You want reasons? Fine. First of all, I killed Skyskribe and Racer. I burned them to lumps of char just so I would get paid for a previous job also involving burning a building to the ground with someone in it!"

Optimus knew what he was doing, he was giving a reason to make Optimus judge him and prove himself right as to why he shouldn't talk. If not for Optimus' desperation, it may have worked. He could see how much that Ratchet was upset and regretted it, but that didn't make it hurt any less. He'd admitted to killing Arcee's sire and carrier just because he wanted to be paid for something else. However, Optimus wasn't going to give Ratchet what he wanted.

"I'm not going to reprimand you for crimes committed long ago. You can keep throwing things that you've done at me, and it won't make me love you any less than I do. You're not just a friend, you've been the closest thing to a sire I've ever had."

He changed his grip into a tight hug, unsure where this was going to lead. Perhaps it was his experience in war, but he just knew something was going to hurt. It'll be added to the pile made earlier after learning his complicated family. Hearing him say that he wasn't like Optimus was making him think about it more, which was disturbing. What did he mean? What was so bad that he was near sobbing in his arms? Somewhere in his spark, he knew, but he just wasn't sure where it was and what it was.

The form in his grip pushed him away, that strange strength forcing Optimus to sit on the berth while he leaned against the dark, his grip bending the metal. His attempt to hold back liquid pain and anguish started to fail in streams and collect onto the floor. That was how it started, and as he slid down to sit on the floor, the trickle came to a messy roar.

"I'm not... one of you. I don't have a sire or carrier, I don't have caregivers, I don't even have a spark!" Optimus was perplexed. "I wasn't sparked like you were, I didn't have the chance to be somebody like you... I was made, and I can't escape what I was made for..."

And he'd done it. The language, the exhaustion, Megatron's sudden change in understanding... Ratchet was a Quantum Raider. He was built by a madman to be a machine. His offended reaction to Rafael's question of who made them during their first meeting now took on a whole new meaning, as well as his difficulty with others. His exhaustion wasn't just from recharge deprivation, he's a literal living relic of ancient times, his tiredness originated from living for far too long.

A long time ago, Ratchet told Optimus that he used to be someone who didn't have an emotion chip until his sister-in-spark managed to reverse the process. Prime couldn't imagine millennia of being ordered to murder thousands with no qualms and then suddenly be given something such as remorse. He was suffocating in guilt from things long past he didn't have control over along with guilt regarding his actions while learning how to handle emotions.

Optimus moved to the floor so he had something to lean on, wrapping an arm around him and using the other to keep him from falling forward. If he really wanted to fix this, he'd undo what Sabrestorm had done. But if he did that, he'd basically be killing who had become a sire figure. He'd just remake what Ratchet hated so much, and that would be such a betrayal that considering it made him feel sick.

"That doesn't make you worth any less."

No matter where you are from, who you are, what you are - your life has as much value as everyone else's. It was something that Optimus wanted everyone to know, it was something he really believed. That was what he was trying very hard to make the Autobots all about, acceptance and tolerance. It was harder than he believed, but he was going to forever try. It's when you give up that you fail, and Optimus didn't like failing so he didn't like giving up.

"You're a fool."

"Coming from you, I will take that as a compliment." Optimus helped him up and sat him on his berth. "Out of curiosity, what did you mean that you are not alone?"

"He said 'A brother of red is on the rock of the bird'. One of my kind is on Griffin Rock."

"After you've recharged we'll go to Griffin Rock." Slowly, Optimus guided him to lay down, something he visibly needed but didn't want to do. "I'll wait if it helps."

And he did. Optimus waited for a while, but he finally went into recharge. He wasn't going to leave, either. He was going to stay all night, even if that meant being on the floor. Words are good and all, but they aren't worth much without action behind them. He had to prove what he'd said otherwise they would go back to where they started. He would do everything he could to help because he believed that if he were in a similar position, Ratchet would be sitting where he was sitting. After beating him with either a literal or figurative wrench.

* * *

Hoist regretted many things. He was old, of course, he had made mistakes. He hadn't made one that had caused his great-grandson to glare at him with the intensity of suns. Megatron was synonymous with glaring, but this was a special kind directed at someone who had seriously angered him. It had been a little funny to see mecha cower under that glare, and here Hoist was, cowering in his seat at a mech who had 97% of a crew who were older than he was.

"You have a lot of explaining to do."

"I just wanted to protect you, Storm."

"Protect me?"

"You suffered greatly at the servos of one of those _things_. _It_ treated you horribly as well, how could I burden you more by telling you that your uncle wasn't even a Cybertronian." Hoist regretted his words, already knowing what was about to come next.

"Many would consider me not to be a Cybertronian because of what I am and where I came from. Legally, I'm still the property of Stargazer, just as Ratchet is to Alchemist. While I was not built from the ground up, I and my ancestors were bred over the course of time to look like monsters for the entertainment of anyone who wanted to watch. In many aspects, we're more alike than I want to admit. Just because he wasn't made like you or Conduit doesn't mean scrap, he has every right to live. The entire point of the Decepticons is to free our kind from your kind of mindset."

"He took my only daughter, Storm. He took her and he ignored her when she got sick. He abused you and Soundwave, along with those other three I forgot the names of. He was terrible!"

"You have more responsibility than you seem to want to admit," Megatron spat, banging his fist on Hoist's desk. "When Sabre gave him emotions, it was _your_ duty to become a role model. She and Black did what they could, but _you_ were the mech of the household, something that he was going to look at as an idea of how to behave. He may have neglected Black Frequency out of pure obliviousness, but _you_ neglected your confused son-in-spark over your hatred for the counsel."

Hoist sighed, covering his optics. He hated it when Storm got like this, it made him look more like Sabrestorm than ever. If she were standing here, he just knew in his spark she'd be saying the same. He wasn't completely wrong, either. Hoist did have a responsibility in moulding Ratchet into something that could've been great, but he was blinded by his own selfishness and envy.

Storm didn't like Ratchet, Hoist could tell even now that was the case, but his boy was following the morals that the Decepticons were based on. He had made the Decepticons for mecha like Ratchet who would've been hunted down by Hoist's fellow Autobot's for being what they were, the same for gladiators and many who had been oppressed.

"It isn't like I can call and apologise, Storm."

"Actually, you can do one better." Hoist looked up at him expectantly. "He will be involved in Black's recovery." Hoist's jaw would've hit the floor if possible.

"Excuse me!?"

"You heard me, Hoist. We might not like him, but he is still her mate. If she can learn to remember me, albeit brief, she can learn to remember him as well. What do you think she'd say if she saw what you've done or lack thereof to continue what my carrier started? I imagine she'll be mighty disappointed."

That was a very painful blow, the idea of his last youngling being disappointed in him. And Black would be more than that, she would be furious. He felt horrible for what he'd done, wishing he could take it all back. He removed his optics from the floor and met Megatron's angry red ones, the white rings a constant reminder of his heritage along with his unnatural denta. Despite these small things, he was still the spitting image of Sabre, and that made his rage like a million swords through Hoist's spark.

"What would you have me do?"

"You are going to call Outpost Omega-1 and you're going to make an apology for being an aft. It's not much but it's a start. He is going to be getting routine updates on her condition just as I am, and there are some things I've come to talk to you about other than your supernova sized screw up in failing to inform me that Ratchet was kin to Wingwraith!"

Hoist made a gulping motion, averting his optics from his great-grandson's smelting gaze.

"Proceed," he sighed.

"My medic wants to examine Black Frequency for himself. You've said it yourself that you're understaffed and you don't have enough supplies nor space for the continuous influx of patients. I want to take her back to the Nemesis, give her a change of scenery and more time with the mecha she already had a connection to other than the odd nurse who sees her to make sure she's refuelling. I have over 400 crew, improved security, far more recourses, much more energon and a lot of space for her to stretch her legs. It feels cruel to lock her in a small room that smells of cleaning products."

"You're... You're being serious? Storm, Black is really unwell."

"While Knockout is young he is a competent medic, Breakdown is training in psychiatry and since last I checked, Ratchet is of a higher rank than you in terms of medicine. I mean no disrespect, I just want to give her a bit more quality in terms of life... not to mention I don't think the aunt of the 'Decepticon Tyrant' is all that safe on a large asteroid surrounded by those who loathe Decepticons."

Hoist had been concerned about the latter for some time.

"I know I shouldn't be doing this, but you are correct in the fact she isn't exactly safe here. I'll send you instructions on her routine and will be making visits, I just want her to be happy."

"She's less of a granddaughter and more of a daughter to you, I've observed. You've even made a few slips and plainly called them your daughters."

He'd even caught a few orderlies attempting to do something to his dear daughter. Yes, he knew they were his grandchildren, but they were so much more than that. After his 'son' abandoned them, Sabrestorm and Black Frequency became his daughters. They were his babies, and the idea that his only surviving baby was in danger terrified him. Even though he didn't like it, that would make Ratchet his son. Now he felt like the abuser.

"And even though you're my great-grandson, I will find myself calling you my grandson to my staff. Speaking of great-grandchildren, how is that bounty hunter of yours doing in the search for Black's missing sparkling?"

"Tarn hasn't gotten back to me yet, but he has never failed me before. We'll find them as well as Shockwave, you can be sure of that. In the meantime, we will reconvene at a later date to transfer Black. I'm sure Prime is going to be contacting me soon in regards to how he reacted to learning he was not alone."

Hoist nodded and watched as Megatron left the room, his tank in knots. Medically speaking, Black shouldn't be moved, but it was a matter of safety. He was frustrated that his great-grandson made some good points, especially the ones regarding his son-in-spark. He still didn't like Ratchet and never will, but he should step above his own personal feelings to do what was right. He didn't want that titanic rascal to make a complete fool out of good old Doctor Hoist, did he?


	11. Chapter 11

Heatwave wasn't surprised when he heard that Optimus was coming to visit again. He was surprised that it took a while, though. Optimus was taking his time with this, though he wasn't sure that was what was happening. Prime was bringing someone with him, likely the reason that Optimus had talked to him and Chase in the first place. He wasn't sure what Optimus wanted, though. It was a little unnerving.

"You're sulking," said the plain voice of Chase.

"I'm not sulking."

"Brooding?"

"Firstly, no more Batman movies. Secondly, I'm nervous. Optimus doesn't come by often, and last time he was asking about that language I know. I told him to go to Megatron and said I had forgotten more than I have so he wouldn't catch on." Heatwave was anxious about anyone other than those closest to him knowing where he had come from. Optimus meant a lot to him, so he was concerned that Prime would think less of him over it.

Heatwave had tried telling people before, and the only four had been something other than vicious were the only four alive.

"Hey, Heatwave!" Shouted the little voice of Cody. "Optimus is here!" He then ran away, not even needing to ask the two to follow.

Chase was in front of his grumpy friend as they joined the other two, both of which looking weirdly excited. It didn't take long to find out why. With Optimus was his famous medic who looked like he wasn't happy to be here, though that could be his infamous "I am done with this" face. Prime didn't notice that the medic was having a glaring contest with a certain ginger-haired firefighter. There was an instant declaration of war, nemesis at first sight. As much of a worry that should be, Heatwave had a strong feeling it was going to be very funny. To him, anyway.

"He's going to be spending a day or two here." This was news to the medic, who turned his glare from Kade to Optimus. "A break would do you some good. And we need to fix the holes in our walls before Fowler has an aneurysm." The medic was still displeased. "You won't have to listen to the Wreckers demand that you break something." That seemed to calm him a little.

"How's Bumblebee?" Asked the jittering Blades. If he shook anymore he would probably drill himself a hole into the ground.

"Bumblebee is fine," Optimus smiled. "Heatwave, I would like to have a private discussion with you and my medic." The others looked disappointed but knew that was their cue to leave.

Optimus took not of the very unamused Kade and just knew that two things were going to happen. Either he and Ratchet we going to fight or Ratchet was going to torture him like he did Bulkhead two years ago. Foolishly, Bulkhead decided it was a great idea to prank Ratchet and he returned the favour by unleashing a horde of magnets on the mech until there were more magnets than Bulkhead. Even after two years, he was still finding care bears and Miko had started a collection of them. So far, there were no duplicates.

Thankfully, Heatwave would have the capabilities to stop him from going too far. While Optimus had some sway thanks to their relationship, Ratchet had proven that if he ever got physical, Optimus would be unlikely to come out on top. The Synth-En wasn't what gave him his abilities, it only seemed to suppress his emotions and take away the restraints formed by aeons upon aeons of guilt and fear of himself. Heatwave should theoretically be a match if something like the incident regarding Synth-En ever came back.

They still hadn't fixed the wall Ratchet made by throwing Bulkhead through it. The fact he gave Rafael a literal cannon that may have made a pinprick in the ozone layer as well as giving Jack a chainsaw scorpion should've told everyone that he was a lot more destructive than even he probably knew. Imagine what he could do if he meant to hurt someone. Optimus refused to do such a thing as it only made what he was dealing with even more alien and difficult.

"I'm guessing this is the mech who had some issues," Heatwave said nervously.

"I went to Megatron as you suggested, and he may have outed you," Optimus said carefully. Heatwave took a few minutes until he got what that meant. "Do not be concerned, I'm not going to tell anyone. If anything, you being here has helped us." He looked confused. "He's like you."

Heatwave looked at the medic who looked like he wanted to leave. Someone like him? As far as Heatwave had been concerned, only Wingwraith and Thunderhoof were still around. There were rumours that Tireburn was disguised as a racer on Velocitron, but it was also said that she perished along with that planet. He didn't know which one Ratchet could be, but he was interested to find out. It was also nice to know that he wasn't the only one who dedicated their long life to help others instead of slaughtering them like the other two.

"Are you seriously dumping me on someone else?"

"No!" Optimus said immediately. "Think of it as a vacation. You've never taken a day off work before, and what better time than now with someone who can empathise with you? I'm limited in this field, even more so with your specific struggles. You can perceive it as dumping you on someone else, but that is not what I am intending. You can come back anytime you want, all you have to do is comm me."

After saying goodbye, Optimus left. The two mechs looked at each other, neither knowing what to start with. Ratchet could tell that this was Waterlog given the hoses in his knuckles like a firefighting Wolverine, but he'd changed so much that he didn't blame Heatwave if he didn't believe him. Before Sabrestorm saved him Ratchet had been that phantom that would occasionally haunt him. A literal machine.

One who also had an accent very similar to earth's Russia. He lost that like Starscream lost his cockney accent, he just assimilated a different one over time.

"How about we go somewhere a little bit more private?" Heatwave awkwardly suggested. They moved from the upper part of the firehouse to the downstairs and then to the secret spot from behind the bookcase. This was private enough. "Alright, we're alone, so we cat get right down to it. You probably recognise which of them I am, so which one are you? I don't recognise you."

"That was the point," Ratchet said. "I was the one that Thunderhoof liked for some reason or Octohover used as a perch."

"Cross!?"

"Hi."

"You... look great! You're emoting, so that's an improvement."

Out of them all, Heatwave didn't think that Hot Cross would ever make it without Al. He was like the Terminator but Russian and lava proof. For him out of all of them to have become anything other than a piece of furniture was impressive. He wasn't visibly impressed by this, which Heatwave liked. Cross had been the one that they talked to because he'd listen... as he had an eidetic memory.

That was probably where a lot of his problems came from.

Heatwave as able to forget a lot of things of those days, he could suppress the missions that Al sent them on, but Cross couldn't. He hadn't been able to care, either. Al liked him so much for that very reason and tried to replicate with the others. Al wanted obedient soldiers but only had two. Cross wasn't able to say no to anything and Stargazer was just the anal leakage of Unicron. Cross could be told to rip an infant in half and he'd do it because he wasn't physically capable of defying commands.

Ratchet was famous for flipping everyone off and doing his own thing. They were literal opposites, and it was sad that he was trapped with the memories of being Al's favourite toy. But it was also impressive that he was still standing and only now was he breaking down from living with it. That was awesome.

"Don't you dare pity me. I can't stand someone pitying me. When Optimus inevitably starts, I'm castrating him with a frog."

"I don't doubt that," Heatwave smirked. "And I wasn't going to pity you. If anything, I should be giving you a trophy for doing so well so far." He didn't expect that. "You're robot Pinnochio!"

"This was a mistake."

* * *

The Nemesis had been informed of Black's coming and everyone had been warned that if anything happened to her, they would be granted a fate worse than death. Knockout was just stoked that his idea was being taken seriously. He'd always wanted to meet Black Frequency, even though he knew she wouldn't be able to remember him. Black was going to have a larger room that was very close to the main infirmary and very close to where Knockout and his staff spent most of their time so she'd always have someone nearby if they were needed.

It was specialised with lots of safe art things since she liked arts, and they were planning to take her to Africa to see elephants after she'd settled. Breakdown was excited to start working with her after he'd thoroughly read through the very large data file that Hoist had sent them. She was high maintenance and that meant the two wouldn't have to be thrown into the fight because they were the only ones with any training.

Knockout had babyproofed the room so she wouldn't hurt herself and Starscream proofed it so she couldn't change the wires to unlock any doors. As much as the little medic hated it, even he could respect the coward's skill when it came to machinery. Black, while having a lot of memory problems, was still a genius. They were waiting for Starscream to inevitably come back to start working on a blueprint she made. That would let the Nemesis go anywhere across the universe without needing an easily destroyable Spacebridge floating in space.

Megatron was being extremely controlling over everything and nobody complained because they understood why. He was rightfully concerned over his aunt's safety, which was why she was coming in the first place. He'd also passworded everything so she didn't accidentally take control of the ship.

And the day had come that they all get to see her. When their lord walked through a Spacebridge, he brought two with him. One was a mech that everyone recognised as a very anxious Hoist, and the other was a surprisingly small and cute looking 19ft empurata femme. Her helicopter blades twitched behind her as she looked around, completely oblivious to everyone and just looking at the terminals.

"Everyone, this is Black Frequency," their lord announced, but it was still hard to believe. She was adorable, small, slim and the least intimidating mecha on the ship. She made Knockout look like a fairy in comparison, though he was already one in the optics of most of the crew. "Black, say hi."

"I'm Black?" She looked at herself, confused. "I'm tan."

"Your name is Black," Hoist said. He had lost count how many times he had said that, and he was growing numb to repeating himself.

"Oh? Ok. Hi, I'm Black." That was both sad and adorable.

"Is she single?" Airachnid smirked. This earned a very comical disturbed expression on Megatron's and Hoist's faces at the thought of it. "At this point, I'm only still loyal to you because your expressions are hilarious and Prime looks constipated."

Black looked ready to wander off so Hoist put his servo on his granddaughter, worry present on his faceplate. He was doing this for her, but he still felt bad. He loved her and wanted her safe, but was this the best place for her? Megatron put a servo on his shoulder, silently telling him that it was ok. Hoist took most of his strength to let go, coolant swelling in his optics. Unable to handle the idea of sobbing in front of these strangers, he bid farewell and left.

"Airachnid, may you keep those comments to yourself. If you try anything, I won't hesitate to kill you and then bring you back as a footrest." She looked annoyed but accepted his warning. "Black." Black turned to him, her calmness being welcome among this circus of barely functional insanity. "Breakdown and Knockout are going to show you where you're staying, alright? And if the red one is annoying, kick his aft."

"Hey!"

Megatron watched the two guide the small femme, hoping that he wasn't making a mistake. Soundwave was currently gathering her things as he didn't want to see her yet, and Megatron was questioning when he would ever be ready. He doubted it, honestly. Soundwave still hadn't said a word after their argument the day he was given sole command over the Decepticons. Arguably the worst day of his life, the betrayal from Wingwraith being second and his transformation into being an adult coming in third.

He was going to plan to tell the Autobots she was here after she had settled. He wouldn't let them come on his ship, but he would set up a location and let Black see her mate. He was doing it for her, he was helping Prime for her and his pity. Hopefully, she would recover and Black could help them end this war before they became extinct.

Maybe someone could finally tell him something about his carrier other than that she'd be proud of him. Black would know better than anyone else, and he looked forward to the possibility.


	12. Chapter 12

So far, Griffin Rock was almost tolerable. They mostly worked with someone being an idiot of oblivious, and their more crazy jobs were usually caused by someone called Doctor Greene and his outlandish inventions. From the stories told about the man were incredibly amusing, it made him think that this Doctor Greene was going to be Rafael's future. He might not invent crazy things, but he had a future somewhere in technology.

Bumblebee had been extremely happy at the more idea that he was going to help his little buddy. He even went as far as to hug him over it. Bumblebee had kind of adopted the small boy as a kind of little brother, spending almost every day with Raf. He had overheard the scout ask Optimus to let Raf's family know about them but had been turned down. Although he didn't like the idea of more humans around, he did like the idea of Bumblebee finding a family. The mechling wasn't able to find who his family was, just that he was sparked outside of Vos.

"Hey," said the small blond one. Ratchet looked at him, already uninterested in what he had to say. "Blades said you're the doctor who saved Bumblebee. How? I mean, I don't mean any offence, but what's the difference between a mechanic and a doctor among Cybertronians?"

"Cybiology," Ratchet answered calmly. "Even though we appear to transform into vehicles, that is mostly aesthetics. We have organs just like you do, albeit not as fleshy as yours. We have a sort of digestive system, fans and vents for lungs, a spark as a heart, a processor as the brain and so on, none of which will be found in a spaceship until it's the alt mode of a Cybertronian."

"So, if we did something similar and made cars out of flesh and someone had to fix it, they would be a biomechanic instead of a doctor."

"Exactly." None of the humans had asked him that so far, not even Jack's mom. How odd. "While I'm not an expert in biomechanics, I do have some experience regarding terramechanics - humans call it terraforming." The kid had an even bigger look of curiosity and wonder. "You want to know how to terraform, don't you?"

Chief Charlie Burns watched the newcomer talk with Cody, pleased with what he was seeing. Optimus had given him an idea as to what was up without going into too much detail, and he was happy with it. Over the past two days, he'd seen Heatwave come out of his shell a bit more, the two of them rarely apart. The medic was never left alone, but despite that, he and Kade had already declared war.

This morning, Kade woke up to a sprinkler going off, but instead of water it had pink hair dye. Right now he was with Doctor Greene to try and get some of the pink out, after some memorable photos of course. Dani and Blades were still laughing about it while Chase was studying the intricacies and history revolving around hair colour. Boulder had been acting very shy around the medic, acting similarly to how Graham acted when the mech and young man first met.

By their reactions to him, the Burns' could tell on day one that the medic was something of a celebrity. It wasn't clear why Kade didn't like him. Charlie put it to his eldest just not liking change and being stubborn. Dani found the old mech's antics amusing, she'd even bought a new scrapbook for the inevitable tirade of cruel and unusual tricks that would befall her older brother. Graham was eager to talk to Ratchet but like Boulder, he was very nervous about doing so.

Unsurprisingly, Cody seemed to be the one to hit it off with him. That was something Charlie was very proud of. Cody could talk to everybody, big or small, organic or robotic. His fascination had led to Charlie learning a few things while listening to the two. He too had been interested as to what the difference between a Cybertronain mechanic and doctor was, and now he knew. Then Charlie got an idea that would either backfire or help humanity in the long run.

Ratchet said he had experience in terraforming and there was a lot of concern regarding global warming and population. If he could give Doctor Greene a way to help Earth or a way to terraform Mars, that would solve a lot of problems that Earth had. Maybe Ratchet could give them help when it came to diseases like ebola, malaria or even cancer. Though this also gave Charlie a little bit of worry.

Doctor Morocco had been a Tim Curry sounding thorn in his side for a while and he was concerned the fancy-dressed lunatic would try and pull something. Before Charlie could think about giving Doctor Greene a call, he heard a familiar voice coming to the underground part of the firehouse.

"Cody!" shouted young Frankie Greene as she looked for her friend. Needless to say, she was very excited when she saw the new bot. "Hey, Cody, is this a new member?"

"No, he's just staying here for a little while. Frankie, meet Ratchet. Ratchet, meet Frankie. He's a bot doc!"

Frankie walked next to Cody and raised an eyebrow at him. Frankie, being the daughter of a scientist, had a very keen eye for details. She could see that this 'bot was covered in scars, even though his paint hid it well. The most recent of them was on his abdomen and looked like it had been caused by a couple of wrecking balls. There was an ancient feeling to him, similar to the feeling she got around Heatwave. He had a Re-Animator's Hubert West thing about him, which was both interesting and put her on edge.

"Where'd you get that mark from?" Frankie said, pointing at the more recent scars. It was only then that Cody noticed it. How hadn't he seen that? It was massive!

"Well, I decided to test synthetic Energon on myself, the side effects being severe cockiness. I decided to go and kill Megatron, and due to that cockiness, I didn't see him shove his fist in my side," he chuckled. "I was leaking Energon like it was Niagra falls. Then Megatron's own Medic, Knockout, nearly sawed my helm off! I've been meaning to get back at him for that. I would've ripped him a new one but I went unconscious from energonloss."

Neither of the two knew what to do with that information. He was speaking very casually about getting fisted through his chest and nearly getting his head cut off like it was nothing. That told them that he'd been in situations like that before, probably the origin of the other scars that Cody could see.

"Who?"

"Megatron, leader of the Decepticons. Don't you two know that a war is going on?" Judging by their faces, they didn't. "Well, get yourselves comfortable because I've got a long story to give you."

Charlie was too interested in what Ratchet was saying to stop him. Optimus had failed to mention that the medic was a seasoned veteran. Well, that gave him and Charlie something to talk about while he was here.

* * *

It was Dreadwing's turn to guard Black Frequency. He really wanted to go to the arctic mission to find whatever it was hidden there, but that went to Airachnid and Soundwave. He didn't see what was so necessary about guarding her. She was locked in safely and nobody would dare go inside without Lord Megatron's permission unless you wanted to be on his bad side. Maybe it was because she was really smart? He wasn't sure.

As he was Second in Command and the most trustworthy mech on the ship, Megatron had given him permission to enter if Dreadwing felt it necessary. The more he thought about how quiet it was the more he was becoming anxious about the possibilities. What if she had hurt herself? Was it possible to forget to ventilate? What if she hurt herself on the arty things that Knockout and Breakdown got her?

Deciding it was better to check than not to, Dreadwing put in a password to enter. He looked around, confused as to what he saw. Black had been very busy because there were pictures all over the floor. Most of them were animals, some being from Cybertron and others from the tv she had been given. From some of them, she seemed to really like Scooby-Doo.

"Hi," said the small femme. She was very strangely cute for being a relative of two very frightening mechs. There wasn't anything intimidating about her. That changed when four cables came from her back to pick up the pictures. So, Soundwave's cables were genetic. Neat. "You're gold and blue. That's a good colour combination. I'll add that to my crocodile!"

He watched her skip over to her desk and start colouring in her crocodile. It didn't look anything like one but he wasn't going to tell her that. Dreadwing looked at one of an elephant on the wall, the only one not done by her. Since Soundwave had a phobia of paper of all things, it was her other nephew who did that for her. It was strange seeing something that showed how much his usually angry lord cared for someone. It made him think of Skyquake.

He missed Skyquake.

"Do you like it here?" He asked, not sure of what to say.

"Why wouldn't I?" Black responded. "I didn't have the cartoons in... in the other room. How long have I been here?"

"Three days."

"I'm sorry, I'm not good with time." She got a spare bit of paper and put it down in front of him along with a pen. Although he couldn't see it, he knew that she as smiling at him. It was the most innocence he'd felt in a very long time. How could he say no to that? She could make Airachnid feel bad, and Airachnid's sole emotion is being a spawn of a glitch. "If you're worried it'll be bad, don't worry. It won't be as bad as my mouse!"

Dreadwing took the pen and looked at the paper, suddenly feeling like he was in school again during a test. The thought of disappointing her seemed terrifying. He didn't think that such she would be frightening, but she was. Unable to handle the idea of an upset Black or her protective nephew - Soundwave was oddly distant so he didn't really count - Dreadwing gave in and started drawing something. He decided to go with his ship which was called the Novotrail. It used to be the Thundershard but he lost a bet to Skyquake and it was thus renamed.

She watched him curiously as he put a lot of detail into it. He thought about how much Skyquake would like to be here and how much he would've enjoyed being here. Knockout could really grate on your nerves sometimes, but on other days, he was fun. During the game night that the crew had set up during the three years without any Autobot bother, he would get up and sing for everyone. Megatron saw no reason to get rid of it and it was always amusing to see what could be done. One of the vehicons showed off how strangely bendy they were, doing things that made Dreadwing's joints ache just watching.

Skyquake would've loved it. He would've been especially excited over the occasional 'Battle Night' where you would get into a ring and fight until you either gave up or the other was knocked out. Dreadwing wished he had been here when Starscream managed to convince Megatron and Soundwave to show off to everyone. There was a video, sure, but it wasn't nearly as exciting as being there.

That stupid green lug would've jumped onto Dreadwing and make him into a seat to get a better view of something like that. Or he'd jump in for the thrill of fighting his lord.

He lost concentration when a small servo touched his shoulder. He looked at her, and he could see sympathy in her singular optic. She was being very motherly to a stranger, a kind of compassion he didn't usually see. He watched her servo move up and wipe away something wet on his faceplate.

"It's my ship," he decided to say. "The Novotrail."

"Novo... I like it, Big Blue." She took her dark blue pen and wrote his new nickname on it. He looked up at the elephant and understood that 'Tabby' was her nickname for lord Megatron, which was cute. He wrote his own name above it, pleased with himself. "You don't look like a nurse."

"I'm not."

"Good. Nurses are so annoying. Because my memory is a bit funny they think I don't know they don't like me. Well, vengeance was mine when I stole one of their lanyards," she giggled mischievously. "Tabby was such a silly little thing, always getting stuck somewhere with a mouthful of lithium. We'd both hide from Hoist as he went looking for us and missing lithium."

Neither story was connected, but he didn't mind. It was nice being around her.

"If I can, I might sneak you in a lithium candy." She nodded quickly, happy to hear it. "I should probably be going, but it was nice talking with you." He put the picture he'd done onto the wall next to the elephant. When he looked at the two, he saw something interesting.

Black was putting names she'd given under the actual names, probably a way to help her remember who was who. He found that really sweet. He gave her a pat on her shoulder as a goodbye and she waved, going back to her gold and blue creature as he left and shut the door. She probably wasn't going to recognise him tomorrow, which was sad. It was then that he noticed he wasn't alone.

"She's something, isn't she?" The question vibrated through his whole being.

"How much did you see?"

"When she said she was drawing a mouse, which I doubt was a mouse." Dreadwing was a little embarrassed about being seen by his Lord being very soft. It was very weird seeing him pleased with himself. "And I didn't steal the lithium, Shockwave did."

With that, he walked away, leaving DreadWing in a strange place where he didn't know what he was feeling. Even though he was conflicted, he was happy to have been given guard duty over Black. And he had something to give Breakdown and Knockout when they inevitably came snooping.


	13. Chapter 13

Heatwave was mad. He was both mad at Ratchet and mad at himself for not telling him that the humans weren't supposed to know about the Decepticons. He really should've clarified that at some point, but he'd been so excited over finding Cross that he forgot about it. Cody and Frankie told the other humans and things had become a little awkward between them. They were mad that the Rescue Bots never mentioned that they were in the midst of a civil war, Dani flat out saying she felt betrayed.

Blades and Boulder had been kept out of the loop regarding what was going on outside of Griffin Rock, and they were very anxious over what they'd heard. If not for Optimus and his team, the planet would be swarming with undead right now and that was something they were probably going to have nightmares over. The details that Ratchet gave were more than he should've and Heatwave suspected he was doing it to get back at Optimus in some way.

When Heatwave expressed how mad he was at Ratchet, his fellow relic of a time best left forgotten gave a couple of points that he wasn't able to argue with. What if the Decepticons turned their optics to Griffin Rock? What if MECH learned about Griffin Rock? Things along those lines. Heatwave wasn't able to answer without telling him that Megatron still owed him a favour from a long time ago, which is why Heatwave suspected the titan hadn't bothered them yet.

He, Chase, Wingwraith, Firefox, Blitzraid and a data clerk called Orion broke the Decepticon Lord out of the Kaon Arena where he was being held against his will, Megatron promising to pay them back someday. Since that day hadn't come yet due to them being in stasis, Heatwave could give him a call and could request something as payment. Honestly, he had been contemplating trying to get rid of Morocco. He knew better than to do it, of course, but it was a nice thought.

While Heatwave was fuming in the fire station, Ratchet had gone outside, not bothered as much as he should be from Heatwave's tantrum. It was wildly irresponsible not to mention something such as the war, so he didn't have a reason to feel bad. Besides, the two small humans probably learned something. The mech picked up a large ball and looked at a basketball net. With a flick of his wrist, the ball went straight through, barely touching the edges of the red ring.

Sabrestorm removed or re-coded a lot of the programmes installed by Al during his construction, but she kept things such as his ability to rarely miss whether it was throwing or catching. She liked playing ball games with him, same with Black. She liked throwing things at him all the time to see if she could get him in the faceplate with something. She succeeded only once, and it took nearly an hour for Hoist to get the knife out of his optic.

It was strange how the two of them got together. They shouldn't have, honestly. She and Sabre were his carers for a long time, the two painstakingly encouraging the idea and practice of free will and finding himself. Sabre always managed to find something insane and fun to do, and Black was more than happy to join in. She and Sabre were near total opposites in both appearance and behaviour.

If she were here today, Sabre would be a wrecker or the Decepticon equivalent to it. She was a very large femme and if her intellect didn't suffice, Sabre didn't mind just running through walls. When she had drunk a bit too much high-grade, Sabre wouldn't use doors, she'd just make them using her bulk and sheer determination to give her grandfather a spark attack.

Black was, again, the opposite. She was like a slinky compared to her sister, very slender and sneaky. She would make herself as silent as possible and had the patience of the sun. She wasn't as loud or bold, but that didn't mean she was a doormat. He'd seen her shout at her ex-mate like he was little more than animal leavings on her pedes despite being much bigger than her and very violent.

Conduit was a waste, much like Sabre and Black's sire. Conduit had bought her from Blare, which was ridiculous. It took her a while but she finally left him, taking Shockwave with her. Conduit never left her alone, though. Ratchet had seen him hang around outside a lot of times, and when he would mention the trespasser, Sabre would come outside. The sight of her usually scared him off, but then he decided to go the legal route to try and take Shockwave from her.

When that didn't work, Conduit decided that he would kill Black. He didn't think that Ratchet would prove to be much of a fight so he ignored him and went for Black. Ratchet responded by using his very good aim to send a very specific tool through the back of his helm, very nearly killing him if not for Hoist. That was why Conduit stayed far away from them.

And where Ratchet got his name from. He got his name by throwing a ratchet into Conduit's head.

Black Frequency thought that it would be funny and it just ended up sticking. She had been so thankful for it that she made up a birthday for him.

_"You weren't alive when you were with that Prime, but since you've been with us, it's kind of like you've been gestating into your person. Now you have a name, you should have a name day to celebrate being alive!"_

And he was never, ever going to tell anyone that was a thing.

Thinking about her made him feel bad for not seeing her. What kind of mate was he to just leave her alone? Sure, she didn't remember him, but she was still his mate. Despite not seeing her for a long time, he still loved her. He'd call the outpost where she was, but he knew better. Hoist wouldn't pick up, the grumpy old miserable aft. Hoist didn't like him because of what he was and hated him because he and Black became something. If it was up to Hoist, he'd be a piece of furniture. He tolerated it for Black's sake, but he always had the urge to rip his spark out.

Even so, if she was getting better, maybe the lashing was worth it.

"Hey." Ratchet looked at the eldest of the humans, the policeman. How long had he been standing there? "Who?"

"My mate..."

"I lost mine ten years ago. Anna was the love of my life, and it hurts not being able to see her. I understand why she killed herself, but it doesn't make the pain sting any less."

"My mate isn't dead, but she has something similar to human Alzheimer's. Sometimes it feels like she died, maybe because she doesn't know who I am anymore." He hadn't talked to anyone about Black before. Nobody had something similar happen to them.

Bulkhead had never taken a mate, he wasn't interested in having a relationship someday, he preferred just having friends. Wheeljack may as well be in a relationship with his ship. Arcee had a history of mechfriends who were egregious and loathsome, and thankfully dead. Bumblebee had never had one before. Optimus had Elita, but she was still alive and probably giving Magnus an earful over being duller than watching paint dry.

Among the roster of Prime's team, nobody could empathise. They were aware that she was sick but he kept the intricacies to himself. Optimus knew more than the others because of Hoist and the small bits that he'd given, but Optimus couldn't know what seeing someone completely forget you felt like. Out of the Cybertronians on Earth, the only one who had a true understanding of that feeling was his homicidal nephew.

"My mom passed away from that. I hated seeing her like that, but I hated the idea of her being alone even more. Sure, she had Woodrow and Alexis, but I wanted to be there. I knew that somewhere, she knew that I was there and I like to think that made her happy before she passed away."

"She had a child at some point. Because she doesn't remember even having a baby, nobody knows where they are. I have a kid somewhere and I don't even know their gender or if they're alive."

The policeman tapped a large crate for the big mech as he sat on a smaller one. The human was the oldest that Ratchet had talked to so far, likely in his late fifties or early sixties. Ratchet didn't even need to tell the elder what was bothering him this second, he just had a sense. Years of being an officer and raising four successful children mostly on his own gave him a lot of experience. It had been a very long time since he'd been around someone who wasn't demanding to know how he was feeling or what was wrong.

He was just someone who wanted a talk, little more. He seemed to be sharing his burdens, perhaps because he also lacked people who could empathise?

"When Kade was six, he had his friends decided to run off to play hide and seek in the woods. I was petrified, I almost had a heart attack at the thought that something bad had happened to him. He had his friends had gotten lost and were stuck out there for three days. I was afraid that they were dead, but in my soul, I had hope that they were still alive. That hope was what kept me searching, even when I got attacked by a bear," he said, lifting his shirt to show the bear claw scars. "Hope is one hell of a thing. Without it, I don't think I would've been able to kick a bear in the face and save my boy."

"While I didn't get attacked by a bear, I took a piece of my spark to keep Bumblebee's going while saving him."

"When you mentioned him in your long talk to the kids, it sounded like he was your son."

"It feels that way, sometimes."

"Next time you see him, maybe you could tell him. I know you're not one to tell others how you're feeling, I'd be a hypocrite if I said I did otherwise. But I think it'd mean a lot to him. I'm a father, I've grown to know these kinds of things."

"I could've used your advice when it came to my stepson. Think if there was a fusion of Spock and Chase, and that would be Shockwave. My nephews are even worse."

"I have five nephews between Alexis and Woodrow. Alexis has three boys - Brian, Karl and Richard. Woodrow has two called Mitch and Woody. I've had to arrest Mitch a couple of times because he fell off the deep end, which I suspect is the same for your nephews."

"One happens to be the one who fisted my chest."

"Mitch shot me once. I guess we have poor luck with nephews."

"Soundwave and Megatron's hatred for me is justified, I was far from stable or fit to be in charge of kids back then, especially Megatron. I wasn't able to handle how much energy he had and I hated him for how much he looked like his mother. I wasn't physically abusive, but I was verbally and emotionally abusive, along with neglectful. I tried giving him to someone else, but they didn't want his breed." Charlie had a perplexed expression. "On Cybertron there was a practice called Pedigree Breeding. To give you an idea, it's like how pugs were bred to be cute and Pitbulls were bred to fight. Megatron and his brother were the product of that - Gladiatorial Pedi Breds or G-PBs."

"I can imagine it was hard to control his nature."

"Very..." He felt a wave of guilt over how poorly he had behaved back then. "Sabrestorm, his mother, had been kidnapped because she went against the council. What usually happens with true G-PBs is that they force themselves on the kidnapee, and if the kidnapped is a femme, she would be kept alive only to have a litter and then killed. If it's a mech, he was just killed and then eaten. G-PBs were forced to become savage animals, some looking like prehistoric beasts which made them more fun to watch. Sabrestorm, being the defiant glitch she was, managed to worm her way into a G-PBs spark and the two mated. She was killed shortly after Megatron was sparked..."

"Alexis' oldest boy, Brian, went to jail for raping a young girl. She became pregnant and decided to keep the baby, even though it must've been tough for her. When he got out - far too early if you ask me - he tried to get custody of his daughter. Alexis didn't believe that her son could've done it and she tried helping him, while I supported the young girl. I helped Diana get a restraining order against Brian and Alexis cut me out of her life. Diana's daughter, Beverly, is a sweet girl, but she looked more like her father than Diana would like. After having another baby with her fiance, Diana fell into postpartum depression and nearly killed Beverly and succeeded in killing her new son."

"Is she alright?"

"Beverly lives on the island and is going to be eighteen soon. I haven't told the others about her yet, nor do they know about Alexis. Woodrow told me that she isn't doing too well, and sometimes I feel bad for not checking on her or my two nieces, Jasmine and Dolly."

"I feel bad for failing my nephews and helping them become what they are now. I stabbed them in the back for my selfish desires, and there have been times where I've contemplated letting them kill me for retribution."

"I was close to that stage, once. During my younger days, while I was still a rookie, I found myself in a shootout. While in the firefight, I accidentally shot a little girl. I still haven't forgiven myself for it, even though her parents have. It feels wrong being forgiven for things like that."

"I killed the entirety of the council who were pushing for that breeding practice and far more. I'm proud of doing that and would love to do it again, but it's the deaths I caused before that I feel the worst over. Optimus is extremely forgiving. Just the thought of him forgiving me makes me furious!" he growled. "I don't care if it was my fault or not, I've still killed lives who didn't deserve to go to the AllSpark early."

"I won't tell you to forgive yourself, nor can I give any advice to make it better. When you get old, you learn to regret what you did in the past and at times, the guilt can be all-consuming. What I've learned is that running away doesn't make the faces any further away, they become part of your shadows. Though I struggle to apply it to myself, I think I'll give you something that my mom gave me before she passed on."

"What would that be?"

"You shouldn't let the mistakes of your past dictate your future - before you can move forward, you need to let it go, or you become stuck. Every day that you breathe life into the lungs of your regrets, every moment that it is given credence, it only gains more power over you. We all have shadows with their teeth sunk into our heels - you need not let them devour your, you need only turn on the light."


	14. Chapter 14

Charlie was possibly the first human Ratchet actually liked. So far, that would be him and Rafael, though the boy was on there more for Bumblebee's sake than his. The elder had interesting things to talk about and was just plain nice. He could consider forgiving Optimus for taking away his high-grade as he wouldn't have met a genuinely interesting human if he still had it. The man disagreed with some things and gave reasons as to why instead of just saying he was wrong or evil like he expected. Ratchet disagreed with a few things and did the same.

Charlie had even convinced him to contact Hoist after he returned to Jaspar.

They debated for a few hours without realising it and when they did, they went inside. As soon as they did, Ratchet could feel that something as off. Either it was paranoia or something else, and he had a gut feeling that it was the latter. He nudged his pede in front of Charlie, signalling that he felt something was off. The policeman wasn't going to argue with someone who had a millennium of combat experience and watched the large mech stay ahead of him.

"Hey," Cody smiled at his father, but the smile faded with the mech near him. Cody wasn't afraid, per se, it was more that he had a level of respect for the mech that could look like fear. "What were you up to?"

"Just getting to know each other," Charlie chuckled as he patted his son on the shoulder.

The old man saw that the medic was watching Blades continuously do pushups, a green visor covering his optics. The old mech didn't like what he saw and before Charlie could ask what was wrong, Ratchet kicked Blades in the abdomen, cracking the glass of his cockpit.

"What're you doing!" Shouted Boulder in surprise and fear.

Ratchet activated his scalpel as the helicopter mech stood up and slashed him - no, he slashed _it_. Ratchet had been in his profession for a _very_ long time, to the point where he could tell if something was up just by watching someone. When he had been a little mechling, it was the only way you could tell that Megatron was hurt because he was scarily good at hiding his injuries. Wheeljack was much the same, as was Arcee and even Optimus.

'Blades' had been moving all too wrong. It was mechanical and he could hear the working of gears, not the movement of joints. No Energon hit the floor, only oil. There was nothing to indicate that this was Cybertronian. At least with M.E.C.H., they used a T-Cog and Energon to power their abomination, but this was purely robotics. Someone had managed to build a near-exact replica, likely with the ability to transform without the need for Energon, which was concerning.

"It's fake..." Cody said, surprised by how quickly the mech noticed it. "How?"

Ratchet didn't answer, he simply investigated the deactivated copy. Even he didn't move like that when he was Al's pet. He kneeled down and tore off the green visor, showing no optics underneath but two orange lights. At least M.E.C.H. put in optics, even if they were the wrong colour. Whoever made this was just lazy and was an insult to Ratchet's whole career.

"If that's not Blades, where is he?" Boulder asked.

"The thing with people who make robots like this is that they're narcissistic. They can't help but put their signature on their creations because they have a need for validation. All we have to do is find the part with the stamp," he smirked as he started to pull the robot apart meticulously.

The mechanics were pretty basic, most of the power going to the voice modulator and a copy of the T-Cog. He imagined the maker must've stolen it from Silas, which gave him a brief moment of joy at the thought of that lunatic getting mad over something. He was used to having a disturbed audience around and was even a little amused at their likely reactions. Eventually, he found the piece. He took it out, examining it. He didn't recognise it so he handed it to a watching Heatwave, who was furious.

"Morocco," the firefighter named, gritting his denta. "He has Blades."

"He likely wants you, too," Ratchet concluded. A plan started to form in his head, a grin growing across his faceplate as a transmitter inside of the head started to blink. "How about we give him what he wants?"

* * *

Airachnid was planning something.

She didn't want to be around the boys anymore, she wanted to go off and do her own thing. She wasn't much of a team player. The issue was Megatron would go after her, so she needed something to keep him at bay. She knew what that something was and was eager to get right down to business. The arachnicon kept her faceplate stoic but on the inside, she was practically giddy.

As an adult in her prime, Airachnid had needs. Mechs were as attractive to her as human, and Arcee was out of the question. Not only could she keep the warlord from following her, but she could have a new plaything that wouldn't remember any activities. Black was attractive and, once she was out of the ship, would also have a helicopter alt mode, making her hard to catch in the air.

Her genius was something else that Airachnid could use. Yes, most of her scribbles were unintelligible, but Black occasionally produced something that would be extremely useful. There was an issue regarding that which Airachnid already knew how to solve. Black wasn't in any position to build something, but a certain seeker was roaming around Earth who was very talented with building things. She could use the two of them to get rid of anyone standing in her way, which was going to be everyone when she was finished.

Airachnid was well aware that Optimus' medic was her mate, and three possibilities would come from him finding out. He would do nothing out of fear for her safety, Ratchet could go rogue as he tended to do or the least likely would be him teaming up with Megatron. Those two despised each other as much as Arcee despised Airachnid, perhaps even more so, and what did Airachnid have to fear when it came to a relic doctor who could barely stand against Knockout without some steroid juice?

The two Vehicons guarding the door this shift noticed her and before they could say a word, her extra limbs had already pierced their sparks. She delighted in the warm feeling sizzle around the tips as they snuffed out, then retracted them. She would never get old of that feeling.

Airachnid tore off the password panel and started rewiring it. While she wasn't all that good with technology, she had a skill when it came to locks. It opened, revealing the femme she was after. Black turned around, looking her up and down. The femme grabbed some drawings and put them in her subspace, nothing for Airachnid to be bothered with. Black was becoming notorious for liking to draw Scooby-Doo of all things. It was probably the mysteries she enjoyed as childish as they were.

"Come on, dear, we're about to go on an adventure." Black tilted her head curiously and walked over to her, Airachnid taking her servo and started walking. "Trust me, it's going to be a blast."

"I like fireworks! Are we going to see fireworks?"

"When I'm done with this ship, it's going to be nothing but fireworks."

* * *

Doctor Morocco was standing in the cave, awaiting the rest of the Rescue Bots. He was a little anxious over what the red one might do so he had brought some of his MorBots as security. He found it a little strange that his duplicate hadn't gotten in contact with him yet, but he didn't question it. His phone started to buzz and the ancient man looked at it, smiling when he saw the Rescue Bots standing outside. All but his replica and Dani Burns.

They were probably doing another mission. It was a good thing that he had brought his MorBots with him or the three would be near impossible to drag to his laboratory. The three walked in, investigating the cave without their human companions. Doctor Morocco waited until all three of them were inside and then ordered his MorBot to cut them off as he revealed himself.

"Doctor Morocco," Heatwave growled, anger across his faceplate.

"Don't look at me like that, Heatwave," Morocco smiled smugly as he held up something that looked like it should belong to The Penguin or a beekeeper. "Save it for later." Morocco activated his weapon, releasing a green gas that filled the cave. The three covered their mouths as they collapsed, unconscious and ready for transport. "MorBots!"

Suddenly, one of the MorBots shook violently. Morocco looked over just in time to see it be ripped in half by an invisible force. Thanks to the smoke, he wasn't able to see who it was. Then he noticed two glowing eyes in the mist. They weren't orange, they were condensed balls of pure flame with the wrath of aeons fueling the pyre. With an electronic sound, the eyes disappeared.

The two remaining MorBots were looking around in confusion, running around to try and find whoever had destroyed their brethren. Morocco turned to another as it started to make a horrible screeching noise as it was covered in an acidic substance and a moment later, a white beam went through the middle of its chest, causing it to drop to the ground. He looked around, frightened and confused. Where had Heatwave gone?

With a snap of fingers, the gas was set alight, burning it and leaving the doctor a little singed. With the gas gone, he was able to see Heatwave and a stranger grab the upper and lower halves of the final MorBot and ripped it in half as well. He saw the young Dani Burns holding a rifle that had a glowing white light coming from the nozzle, making her responsible for killing one of his creations.

He turned and ran, only to find Doctor Greene behind him and having a device of his own. He activated it, trapping Morocco in a forcefield of some kind that rendered him unable to move. His mind was racing as to what could have possibly gone wrong in his flawless plan! His eyes moved to the stranger who had blue eyes instead of the burning flames he had previously seen.

Boulder and Chase stood up, something covering their mouths. The Rescue Bots hadn't fallen, they were just pretending. After Dani gave the all-clear on her walkie talkie, the rest of the Burns family came in, along with Frankie Greene and her robotic dinosaur.

"The plan worked like a charm," Dani said as she cocked the rifle, her face clearing saying that she was going to keep it.

"It's not over yet," Ratchet said calmly. "The next part is getting Monopoly man to tell us where Blades is."

"I understand that reference," Commented Chase. "There will be no get out of jail free cards."

"Can I keep this?" Doctor Greene asked the new mech, and Ratchet shrugged. "Brilliant! Now I can finally catch my flying toast."

"I'm not even going to ask," the medic thought out loud. "Charlie, I believe this is now your department."

"Gladly," Charlie said as Doctor Greene released the terrified man from the field. Charlie slapped on the cuffs and was suppressing his worry and anger for his missing family member. "We can do this nicely, Doctor, or we can let our new friend here have a go." Morocco looked at the new mech, his optics flashing like a haunted furnace for a brief moment.

Terrified, the man nodded, not wanting the scary one anywhere near him. Morocco was a smart man, and he knew when something was a legitamate threat to his life. And when he first saw those horrid eyes, he could tell that there was a lot of restraint to keep them from melting him then and there. He didn't want to die, especially not by fire and not fire by someone who looked like they would enjoy it and make it last...

"I'll tell you whatever you want, just please don't let that thing go near me!"


	15. Chapter 15

He had enjoyed that far more than he should have. He loved the sensation of ripping those robots apart along with the feeling of setting that gas alight. The flames had licked his servos, burning away that itchy feeling. He was going to keep that to himself though. He knew that it was wrong and he felt bad for enjoying a habit he had spent a long time getting out of.

Morocco squealed like a pig, telling them where Blades was and how to restore Blades' memories. The young mech had been super gutted that he missed everything but he also found it cool that the mech who saved Bumblebee also saved him or something like that. He wasn't all too concerned.

He watched the Rescue Bots as they played some kind of ball game with their human companions, and a thought occurred to him. Retirement. That was a word that was unfamiliar to him. He knew the meaning, but he'd never applied that to himself. For nearly four days, he had been able to do barely anything but interact with a long lost sibling and possibly make acquaintances with Charlie Burns and Ezra Greene.

The mad doctor he had heard so much about was in his late fifties and was kicking around like he was in his early thirties, just a big ball of life and curiosity. It seemed like there was a natural understanding between the three only the old could understand. He had been constructed before Heatwave and had been "released" before him as well, so in a couple of ways, Heatwave still counted as one of the young'uns as Ezra jokingly said earlier.

Maybe he should move to Griffin Rock at some point? Nobody would question if Ezra got his own 'bot' given how often he got himself in trouble, and since people rarely bothered him, Ratchet wouldn't have to pretend to be a mindless being again. He wouldn't mind taking Black here if she got better. That being said, he should better get it over and done with before he started procrastinating.

"I'll be back in a minute," he said as he went inside and to the hanger. When he reached the console, he was hesitant for a moment. Pressing on, Ratchet got into contact with Health Outpost Ivory-16. He was anxious about what might be said and became even more so when Hoist answered. He hadn't expected him to pick up.

"I was wondering when you'd finally call," Hoist said, the venom in his voice as strong as ever. "I'm sure you aren't just calling to check on me."

"Optimus said that Black was doing better."

"Yes. I can't say on her condition right now, however." Ratchet was confused by this. "She wasn't exactly safe here. I don't need to explain why, given her family relations. For her protection, I allowed Megaron to take her." Hoist had a very annoyed expression on his faceplate and he looked like he wanted to hide. "He was rather furious I failed to mention what you are." That was unexpected. "He hates you, but because Black loves you for whatever reason, he thinks you should be involved. If you've grown a spark yet, you wouldn't mention that I haven't contacted you as I agreed I would."

Usually listening to Hoist made him feel miserable, but he was still running off the high from a few hours ago.

"Why am I surprised that he has more honour than you do?" Hoist's optics narrowed dangerously. "She's my mate, why shouldn't I be involved in her getting better?"

"Because you are sick, incomplete and damaged - an abomination to Cybertronian kind. If it weren't for Sabre's compassion, you would've corroded away and another of the Council's mistakes would've gone with you." Ratchet was starting to get mad. "I don't care what Stormwire or Black says, you're still one of Al's pets." Hoist shivered when those horrible optics came back again, the rage behind them was immeasurable. "No matter how much you try to change, you will never change. You will always be a monster that should've been put down."

"Next time I see you, don't be surprised to see a fist in your face!"

Furious, Ratchet hung up. He had a very powerful desire to set something on fire. Or, more preferably, set _him_ on fire.

He could feel the heat sooth away as he snapped from it, confused. He hadn't thought about something like that in a while, so long that it felt like someone else was inside of his body. Did that one instance of setting something on fire ignite these feelings, or had they always been there, simmering beneath his guilt and constant intake of high-grade. When the rage went away, the regret came back. He shouldn't think like this. He shouldn't enjoy the idea of burning someone. He shouldn't enjoy fire.

Hot Cross was a name given to him and he had been tied to a cross and burned by some terrified folk, but he didn't burn. Like how Waterlog's special ability revolved around liquids, Hot Cross' revolved around temperature, especially things of the hot variety. He could walk in molten magma and heat himself up in cold climates, making it easy for him to adapt no matter where he was. Setting him on fire would do nothing. Not being on fire seems to have been why he itched so much.

He had to avoid fire. Being around it was like some sort of drug and that was dangerous. He didn't want to go back to what he was when he was with Thunderhoof, a careless mercenary that had killed those like Arcee's carrier and sire. He didn't want to be some killer and didn't want to be what Al made him be or what Hoist was adamant that he was. He wasn't just an abomination, not anymore. Black and Sabre had seen to it that he was a living being, separate from Al's work.

Despite that, he wanted to punch Hoist in his mouth and accidentally break his jaw from his stupid head.

* * *

The past four days had been extremely difficult for Optimus. He wanted to call Heatwave to see how things were going but he had to restrain himself from doing so. Heatwave was handling it better than Optimus, and that upset him. He had been trying, but thanks to having time to look at everything and do some research, he was completely out of his depth when it came to this.

He had known that the Quantum Raiders and that they suffered greatly through the evil of their maker, but he had no idea to the exact extent. Form the few pictures that there was, Optimus had deduced that his friend was the worst off out of all of them as well as better off.

The Quantum Raider nicknamed Hot Cross was a literal robot, completely absent of any form of will or conscience, exactly what the mech known as Al had been going for. Al had been trying to replicate Hot Cross but the closest he came to doing it resulted in Stargazer, a name that gave the Prime chills. Hot Cross was impervious to most forms of extreme heat, infinite patience, extremely calculated, quick unless ordered otherwise, and then there was his Symbiote.

Optimus didn't know why they were called Symbiotes, but they were weapons designed so only the Quantum Raider the weapon was catered to could use it. Hot Cross' had been the Solaricarver, which was the name given to a pair of blades that operated a lot like the Blades of Chaos in that video game he saw Jack and Miko play once. War of Gods? No, it wasn't called that, but it had a similar name to it.

Even without those blades, Hot Cross had been something to fear. When the Quintessons were sent back from whence they came, the Council used him and the remaining Raiders as attack dogs to anyone who dared defy them. The last mission Hot Cross had been sent on was to kill a femme called Sabrestorm, which was where Ratchet came to be.

Optimus wasn't sure why she had helped him. She didn't have to, but she had. But given what he knew of Hot Cross' history and disturbing body count, Optimus questioned her choice to give him a conscience. He loved Ratchet, he did, but he could understand why his friend had such issues with what he had done and what he used to be. It felt cruel to do that, though the alternative wasn't all that better.

Learning these things explained so much. It explained why he struggled to get along with others, why he hated being ordered to do something, and why he was so exhausted. He had been around for too long. It was a good thing Shockwave wasn't here because logically, the answer to that was to end it. Nothing they did would take away that draining feeling of being around all the time, nor would it make the ghosts of the past go away. Even if all of them accepted him, he couldn't accept himself.

There was a way he could, which worried him.

Optimus had found that there was a single vail left of the original batch of Synth-En, and he had hidden it on Wheeljack's ship. Ratchet didn't like Wheeljack, and after talking with the Wrecker about how mad he was about the relation between Sabre and Megatron, Optimus understood why. Sabre seemed to have had a knack for taking in those who weren't wanted, and he was sad that he couldn't have met her. She sounded like quite a character.

If Black Frequency got better, Optimus was going to ask her about Sabre and also get to know his best friends' mate better. She seemed like a character as well from what Wheeljack had given. A bit crazy and when she was excited she would move around like a slinky.

Curious about how she was, Optimus called Hoist. He'd never called him before, but he felt a need to. When Ratchet got back, he could tell him how things were. He ended up connecting to an existing call, which was not what he wanted to hear.

And now he learned where a lot of his insecurities regarding identity came from, as well as Ratchet's hatred for a mech that had a stellar reputation. He was tempted to punch Hoist as well. He waited until Ratchet left so he could enter in.

"Let's hope you two don't meet." That was a lie and the yelp given by Hoist was very entertaining. "It's been a while, Hoist."

"It has," he said nervously. "It's a bit complicated between us, see..."

"I know," Optimus said firmly. Being unamused was a severe understatement, he was struggling not to imagine the satisfaction of punching him over and over in the faceplate. "I'll be sure to mention this to Megatron." He hung up, unable to hide how done he was with this. "I need a vacation."

* * *

Away from everyone in the outback of Australia lay the Harbinger. The upper half of it, anyway.

Airachnid had grown annoyed with Black's constant wandering off, so she had made a harness using her webbing. Even so, Black was getting on her nerves. Like a child, she constantly asked where they were going and if they were there yet. She was very tempted to tear out her voicebox, but Airachnid needed her in good condition if she wanted Black to be a good bargaining chip.

The reason that Airachnid chose the Harbinger is that it was the only place that Starscream could harvest Energon and refine it. She needed him to build the Spacebridge plans she had 'borrowed' and if Black made anything else useful, he would be made to build that as well. He was a coward so it wouldn't take much to get him to do what she wanted.

"That's the Harbinger," Black stated.

"Yes. You're familiar with it?" She asked, pleased that she didn't have to explain what something was and then repeat it later. Finally, something that Black already knew about.

"Sure, I do. A friend of mine was ordered to go onto the Harbinger with his hive to protect something I designed a while ago with my sister. Oh right, I had a sister. I wonder what happened to her?"

Now that got Airachnid's interest. A hive of Insecticons was on the planet somewhere just waiting for her to take command of. This femme was even more useful to her than she first imagined. From how she worded it, it sounded like her friend was in charge of that hive.

"Who don't you know?" Airachnid asked without really expecting much of an answer.

"I know a lot of people because I'm nice."

"You're too nice for your own good."

"It's better to be nice and surrounded by those who like you than be mean and be alone."

To Airachnid's surprise, an Insecticon came outside covered in yellow stripes. She didn't know why they had painted themselves, but it made them stand out against the how and barren wasteland that was Australia. A few moments afterwards, the reason she was here had come out as well. Somehow, Starscream had found himself one of the Insecticons and the two had forged some sort of alliance.

Cockroaches get along with cockroaches.

"What do you want Airachnid?" Asked the seeker. He then noticed the femme with her. "Are you out of your fragging mind!? Why have you got Black with you!"

"It's simple," Airachnid smirked as she aimed one of her legs at Black, the sharp edge dangerously close to her helm. "You're going to make something for me."

Her optics glowed faintly as she mentally attacked the Insecticon, which she learned was female through the connection. Insecticons were easy for her to take control over so it didn't take long. The large female grabbed the seeker by the arm and lifted him up. As she expected, he didn't put up much of a fight. Airachnid mentally commanded the hulking beast to go back inside and followed behind, pulling the web lead whenever Black started to try going somewhere else. With an Insecticon here, it was going to be even easier to keep these two under her control.


	16. Chapter 16

To make sure Starscream knew what would happen if he tried anything, Airachnid had ordered his leg to be broken, making it impossible for him to run away or transform, which wasn't possible anyway. He didn't have a T-Cog, which was hilarious in her mind. He was still mouthy but knew better than to start anything.

Even so, she had to be very careful when it came to the coward. Physically, Starscream was about as threatening as a Cyberfox. Mentally, however, he was a force to be reckoned with. He wasn't (usually) Second in Command of the Decepticons for no reason. Scheming was synonymous with the mech, and she was sure he had already come up with a few plans to either get back at her or escape. Paranoia worked in his favour at times and others, it ruined his carefully put together plans. Depending on his emotional and mental state, those plans were either ridiculous or frightening.

Not to her, of course, but to others.

Airachnid had waited for a couple of hours before calling the Nemesis. When she did, they answered immediately. There were no words to describe the amount of rage her ex-Lord was showing. He was so angry he was glowing purple with an aura shaped like lilac flames dancing over his form. It was beautiful to look at, honestly. She could see his sharp denta, something else that she enjoyed looking at.

She was one of the few among the Decepticon ranks who knew what Megatron was, a being bred for the gladiator pits. War and battle were the core of his very being, and it showed. While having an Insecticon was good and all, she wanted to have something like that at her beck and call, a bruiser in every sense of the word. The best part was that she could make more of him with the right femme. She imagined what would happen if a G=PB bred with an Insecticon for a moment, and decided that maybe she should try and find a way to test if it was possible.

"You have no idea what you've done."

"I do, actually," Airachnid smiled, enjoying the absolute necrotic venom in his voice. "And I know you can't do anything about it. If I see any sign of Decepticon activity, I'll break start breaking things. She only needs her servos to draw, anyway." That only made those pseudo-flames grow in intensity. "That's always been a problem with you. You're too emotional. Your wrath is truly something to be respected, but its that small shard of compassion that will be your downfall. Your incessant need to keep the incompetent like Knockout, the broken like Breakdown and the traitorous like Starscream. Because of your stupid adopting of those such as yourself, you've let your dear aunt fall into my servos. This one is on you, big boy. We'll talk later."

She knew he was going to find some way to retaliate, and she was looking forward to it. Arcee was fun to watch get mad, but she was growing dull in comparison to her newest toy.

While she was doing that, Black was sitting in a makeshift brig with the injured and annoyed stranger. He had been given her drawing and the mean arachnicon was forcing him to make it. She didn't like that. You should be able to make whatever you like! And if you had to, you should at least be paid. This was tantamount to slavery and Black wouldn't stand for it.

Black knew that she had a memory problem. Something that she thought happened yesterday would turn out to have happened over a decade ago, which frightened her a lot. Over the past months or so, she wasn't sure, it had been getting better. She was remembering this easier, small bits and pieces of her past coming back from where they'd been buried. She knew him from somewhere but wasn't sure.

"I'm sorry she's making you do this," Black said, feeling like it was right to say. "I didn't know that she was planning this. I don't seem to know a lot, these days."

"It's not your fault," the mech said, sounding tired.

The white ring of her optic changed shape, portraying a feeling of sadness and regret. Black looked at the web that attached her to the wall and picked up a piece of sharp-ish looking metal and started cutting. When she was finished, she looked around for some pipes or any strip of strong metal. She found what she was looking for after a bit and walked over to the other hostage, feeling bad for his predicament.

He didn't argue when she moved his leg, though he did make a high pitched yelp when she set it right. Someone told her that when a strut in the exoskeleton was broken in two, you had to realign the struts so they could heal correctly later on. When that was done, she put the two pieces of metal she'd found and used the web to wrap them in pace, its stickiness keeping them connected to the metal of the leg.

She felt bad for not knowing who taught her that but knew they had blue optics. Or were they yellow? She wasn't sure.

"Don't walk on it and you should be ok," Black said, inwardly pleased with her work. Black Frequency stood up and looked at the blueprints. She didn't recognise it but knew it was her work. "That would let her make a Spacebridge by using a ship."

"Not with this hunk of junk," said the seeker, obviously talking about the ship around them. "It barely has enough power to keep the lights on - I had to steal a generator from a farm that's a few kilometres from here just so I could refine what Energon I could find. She's going to need a much bigger power source than that."

"And she'll likely want us to make the power source for that." Black's helm tilted curiously. "Is it possible for us to put in a security measure? Say, CNA clearance?"

"It's possible, but I would need an energy source. Before we do that, we should find a way to delete her ability to take over Insecticons. Scorpionfly is just one of a hive and since Airachnid likely knows that, it won't be long before she goes looking for the said hive. I don't need to say what would happen if she got ahold of them."

"I can start working on that. You'll have to remind me a couple of times."

"I will, especially if it means taking something away from that conniving glitch."

* * *

Knowing that something was going to be up, Optimus had gone to Griffin Rock. He didn't announce the visit, but he felt like that was probably best. He had been surprised to see that everyone was playing a kind of soccer game outside, the reason for him being here sitting outside and 'watching'. He wasn't really, but it appeared that way. Nearby were two sympathetic elders he quickly identified as Charlie Burns and Ezra Greene. As he walked over, he could hear them talking.

"In-laws are like an entirely different species!" said a joyful Doctor Greene. "When I was with my wife, my mother-in-law was adamant that I was the spawn of evil. I wasn't surprised, given that she was from Lousiana. I don't think I need to explain why she was a little cookey."

"For me, it was the father-in-law," Charlie sighed, thinking back to a long time ago. "Cornelius wasn't all too pleased that I wasn't from a rich background. He didn't like that I wanted to be a policeman, either. The mother was lovely, but Cornelius probably would've found Superman unfit for his dear girl. He's still alive and he blames me for Anna's passing. He even tried to sue me over it and nearly crashed her funeral."

"Georgia tried to claim that I was abusing my dear Francine when her mother and I split ways because she didn't want me taking care of her. I'll admit, I think a spouse passing is easier to deal with than a messy divorce."

"Hoist considers me an abomination to my species."

"Georgia felt the same way about me," Ezra sighed. "With in-laws like that, the best you can do is ignore them, even if you want to knock a tooth loose. If you do that, you're just verifying their beliefs and then they'll be even worse. By being the bigger man - or mech in your case - you're making him look like a buffoon. Watching them grow more and more furious over it is very much enjoyable."

"Your father-in-law sounds similar to mine, nobody would be good enough for his little girl."

"Hoist is her grandfather."

"That's a whole other barrel of floating lobsters," Ezra chuckled.

The three finally noticed the Prime, who felt like he was intruding. He had expected him to get along with Heatwave, but not these two. Doctor Greene was similar to Miko in a couple of ways and Charlie... Optimus shouldn't have been surprised that Charlie found a way to his friend. The man practically radiated friendliness and acceptance.

He wasn't going to lie to himself and say that he didn't feel a ping of jealousy. Ratchet had told them what'd happened straight away. His feelings were ridiculous, he acknowledged. The problems revolving around a terrible in-law paled in comparison as to why he was on Griffin Rock. He had learned something interesting about the two elder men during the conversation. They'd had experience with bad in-laws while Optimus hadn't, so they were best to give advice.

"I thought that I would come by to see how you were doing."

"I got a chance to scare the slag out of the Monopoly man."

Optimus pulled a confused face for a few moments until he understood that Ratchet was talking about Morocco. Charlie further explained what happened, and Ezra added that he and Dani got to keep their new devices. While he was happy to know that Ratchet was doing better, he was concerned due to what he had learned. He couldn't dismiss the possibility that Ratchet was going to fall into bad habits, and this could be one of them.

After some digging around what happened to Arcee's carrier and sire, he learned that it was linked to a mercenary by the name of Hazmat, whose MO was fire. He didn't want Ratchet to wind up back in that place again, so he would have to nip that in the bud. Not here, but when they were in private. He would bring up his concerns so they could both work on avoiding it happening in the future.

"Other than that, you appear to be doing well."

"You should've seen me ten minutes ago."

"I heard," Optimus sighed, showing his irritation. "I'm very disappointed in his behaviour, but I'm also proud that you're talking about it. It's a sign that we're progressing. I'm also pleased that you've made some friends here." Ezra and Charlie both had smiles as well. It was then that the others noticed that he was here. "Later, I want to help you see Black. Even though Megatron doesn't like us, he cares about Black and she might be happy to see you as well."

Ratchet didn't say anything, but Optimus understood. He was learning to read the old mech's body language to understand what he was feeling, and from what he was reading, it was acceptance. He wasn't looking forward to seeing Megatron again, but he would for his friend's sake.

While it was very stressful, this had been a very enlightening journey. He didn't think he would learn as much as he had, and he was both tired and happy for it. He learned Megatron's name was Stormwire from his accidental eavesdropping, he learned about their family and he knew his friend better than ever. Optimus wanted to help as much as he could, even though he understood that someday, his friend wouldn't be around for long. As much as he hated the idea, he understood it and in some regards, accepted it as inevitable. For the time that they had, he was going to make it as great as he could.

* * *

Breakdown was searching through Black's room. He had a strong feeling that something was in here. Black could appear naive, but from their talks, he had learned otherwise. She was aware of her problem and she had formulated her way of remembering people. She would encourage those who visited to draw and have them sign it and she'd write her nickname for them under it.

Megatron had been the first to do it and she wrote down her original pet name for him - Tabby. Breakdown had drawn a wolf and Black gave him the nickname Dalek. Knockout had drawn an Aston Martin and Black dubbed him Marty. Dreadwing had done his ship and was named Big Blue. Soundwave hadn't done it yet, but Breakdown had a feeling that he'd be called something like Mouse.

He could see the pictures she had done on the wall, but the one that Megatron had done was missing. She must've taken it to remember him when Airachnid came. He moved around the pieces of paper, looking for anything that might stand out. As he moved them, he noticed something about the pictures that didn't seem to make sense. Curious, he started to put them on top of each other, and lines were starting to connect.

Pleased he had found something, Breakdown began putting them all together like a complex puzzle. It was becoming clearer as he added more of them. When there weren't any left, he took some steps back. It was a map of some kind. It was incomplete and there was some writing that he couldn't understand but recognised it as the popular language of the year, Encryptaryn.

The others arrived quickly, all eager to find anything pertaining to Black's whereabouts. Breakdown showed what he had discovered, waiting for their leader to translate it for them. Out of them all, he was taking this the hardest.

"What's it say?" Dreadwing asked.

"Zdigabbi lizz yaeza maen za. Siga sabbi oq miril't hira. Nph aesa aer zaqoh xozz, trael s'abbia ya hira iz. Trael s'abbia saeq ynaezz' trima hoes. L'ta zoma yabbia. Nogiae k'oes xik edaenz zaerdh. Yaes zoma. I raeq. I qotar qae edon aer ginq qae zota xnigka. Zdigabbi loai chowa. Taad zdigabbi sabbia. Aerja k'oya zoesxa oq iz saehg."

It hurt their audio receptors listening to so much of it. That language was something that should remain in the past for how awful it sounded. It was so unnatural and almost evil. It looked like chicken scratch when written and like tortured cats when spoken, the varying pitch and clash of syllables an insult to the linguists of the universe. It was fitting that this was Unicron's true tongue.

"What does that mean?" Knockout asked, rubbing his particularly sensitive audio receptors.

"Spider will come for me. Hide her at finish line. Red eye on metal ball, know where the line is. Know where hot cross' knife lay. She safe there. Radio play big storm song. They safe. I not. I taken to star on dirt to make bridge. Spider want leave. Keep spider here. Only place maybe at is hold."

Megatron scowled at the image before him. While he was upset with the fact that his aunt knew that this was going to happen somehow, there were other things she had provided. He ran it over and over again in his head, deciphering the poor translation until things were becoming clearer.

"I think I got it," Knockout said, moving to squat down over the map. "This is a map to the Sea of Rust, and if I'm not mistaken, a certain red eyed cyclops happens to have a laboratory there. Black has hidden somebody where the Solaricaver is, which Shockwave knows the location of. Someone called Radio is with whoever she's hidden so that they're safe. She acknowledges that she isn't safe, but it's the last part I can't figure out."

"Star on dirt, the only star on dirt would be Starscream," Dreadwing added. "Airachnid wants to leave, something we already know thanks to those plans she stole. She would need a - Harbinger! Another world for holding is a harbinger."

"I knew I kept you three around for something," Megatron said, not bothering to hide how pleased he was. "Soundwave, get the Spacebridge ready. Knockout, I want you to go to the Autobots to inform them of what is going on. No doubt that glitch is watching our comms, so we'll have to do it in person." Knockout rose an optic ridge at the order. "Out of us, you're the least threatening. We've deduced that the Autobots are hiding somewhere in Jaspar, and as school is going to end soon, all you have to do is follow them. You can ask my uncle where he hid the Solaricarver in case Shockwave has moved somewhere else."

"I'll go with Knockout," Breakdown stated. "Dreadwing, you'll be in charge of the ship."

Dreadwing nodded.

With everyone's jobs sorted, they all moved. The faster they worked, the quicker they could get Black away from Airachnid. That glitch had no idea what was about to hit her.


	17. Chapter 17

Knockout had been waiting for ten minutes. He was watching three familiar vehicles and waiting for their humans to show themselves. He was getting agitated by waiting for so long and had to fight to keep from revving. Deciding that it would be best to just get this over with, Knockout moved from his position to park next to a certain motorbike. He could tell that she was irritated that he was there, and he was amused by it.

"What're you doing here?" She hissed quietly, trying not to gain any attention.

"We'll talk in-depth when there aren't any humans around. This is something that all of you should hear in private."

Bulkhead wasn't sure what was going on, but it was making him anxious. The Decepticons had been acting weird lately, along with Optimus, Wheeljack and Ratchet. Arcee knew something but she had been keeping him and Bumblebee in the dark. For Knockout to boldly drive up right next to them meant that it was serious. The past few months had been an emotional rollercoaster he would do anything to get off of.

The kids had been freaking out, too. He felt bad that Raf had to see the doc go into a reboot like that, and it was made even worse because the kid thought it was his fault. Humans were a lot more empathic and could pick up when something was off, something he envied sometimes. He could do with that intuition when it came to his friends. He had tried reaching out to Jackie and Prime, but the two were extremely quiet at the moment. Something had infuriated Jackie and Prime was looking far more tired than before.

He looked drained, even if he tried hiding it. His mood changed quickly and he was just grumpier, which wasn't something that any of them expected to see. It worried him, and he was growing sick of it.

The three humans came out of the building and were rightfully confused as to why the red sportscar was there, but they were told to just go along with it for the moment. Not trusting Knockout, Arcee took charge and led them to a location outside of the town where they could talk. Along the way, Breakdown joined them, which wasn't a surprise. It was very rare for one to be without the other.

The three humans were made to stand behind Bulkhead as they all transformed, the Autobots being very wary of the two Decepticons. Knockout looked serious while Breakdown looked calm, instantly telling them that the situation was _bad_. Breakdown took a minor glance at the three humans, specifically the small one. The young human seemed to be very scared, but not of them. Breakdown already had an idea as to what the cause of it was and thought it best not to add to it. As Knockout took a step forward, Breakdown moved his arm to signal that he was taking over. The smaller mech agreed that his mate was likely better to explain what was going on.

"What do you want?" Bulkhead asked, preparing himself for a fight if needed.

"We need to warn you about Airachnid," Breakdown started. "She's kidnapped Black Frequency. Since they could only have gone to the Harbinger, it was unsafe to contact you. She's made it clear that if she sees any activity from us, she'll hurt Black."

"Who's Black?" Asked the eldest of the human trio. "I heard her mentioned by Wheeljack once, but little more than that."

"She's Ratchet's mate, as well as Megatron and Soundwave's aunt," Breakdown explained.

"I'm older than Megatron?" Was Bulkhead's first reaction, and then it was the understanding as to why Wheeljack was in such a foul mood lately. "Nevermind that. Why was she on the Nemesis in the first place? Black is supposed to be with Hoist."

"You honestly think the aunt of the Decepticon's Leader would be safe in an _Autobot_ outpost?" Knockout pointed out. "Megatron was furious when Airachnid called. He would've made glow sticks at raves feel ashamed with how bright he was!" That earned a light elbow to the chest. "Watch the paint."

For the humans, this was the first time they were learning what was up, even if it was only a little bit. They didn't know that Ratchet had a spouse, it didn't seem likely with how antisocial he was. They only knew that Cybertronians could have families because of Raf, and it took a lot of coaxing to get it out of him. He'd always been quiet, but he'd been especially so after Ratchet rebooted, which Arcee wouldn't go into much detail over. The poor kid thought it was his fault it happened.

Miko thought that it was pretty cool, which was a surprise to nobody.

"What do we do?" Arcee asked. "It's like you said, she'll hurt Black if anybody gets close. And I don't think the bond between her and Ratchet is strong enough to telepathically send a message."

"We'll have to think fast. Airachnid has taken some plans to make a Spacial Rift Projection Generator for a Space Specified Aircraft and her only chance of having it built is with Starscream, and we all know how quickly he caves," Breakdown said firmly, raising his single optic ridge at the looks he was getting. "The plans would allow a ship to operate as a portal gun with Spacebridges. As much as we hate to admit it, Starscream's a talented engineer. He designed and did most of the work on the one you blew up and the one you hijacked, so making this won't take him much time."

Breakdown could say smart things, Starscream was good at something and Megatron possessed a spark. Arcee wasn't liking this. She liked it better when Breakdown was a brute, Starscream was a coward and Megatron was evil. She didn't like it when they showed more than that because it made it harder to fight them. She didn't want to kill someone while knowing their aunt or parents would miss them. It made her feel like she was one of the Decepticons to do such a horrid thing.

*We have to tell Ratchet, that's the first thing we should do.*

"Your spark is in the right place, Beeper, but that's very unwise. As Breakdown has seen for himself, your medic isn't exactly what we'd call stable. He has a history with being reckless and going rogue. We don't need him screwing up and spooking Airachnid into running under the hills!" Knockout crossed his arms, already knowing what they were going to say. "Yes, he has a right to know, but given his unpredictable and unstable state right now, we shouldn't tell him." He turned to his mate. "Would you like to suggest what would happen if we told him?"

"This is his mate we're talking about, so the anxiety is going to manifest into a rage, which will be where the recklessness comes in. If he feels desperate enough, he could even resort to using Synth-En, and that would just exacerbate an already existing problem. I'm not sure how much you know, but Synth-En doesn't make you stronger or fight better, all it does is suppress your emotional cortex to such an extent that you may as well be a sociopath. Optimus would agree with me in saying that he shouldn't know. Not only is it safer for him, but it's safer for us."

Breakdown still ached from how hard the medic hit. His T-Cog had been hit so hard that it nearly shattered, and the replacement wasn't completely cooperative yet. He punched _hard_. Not only that, but he was durable as frag. The punch that Megatron gave should've gone right through him, and it was only by sheer luck that an arterial Energon line had been severed which caused the excessive bleeding.

*It feels wrong.*

"It will and he'll probably be mad at you, but that's a small price to pay for the safety of everyone involved. It'll be best if we continue this in your base where nobody could overhear. Given that she worked with MECH in the past and they're pretty mad at us for killing Silas, there's no telling if we're being watched."

Though they didn't like it, they agreed with Breakdown. Bumblebee contacted Wheeljack to request a Groundbridge, his anxiety building. Bumblebee had been told a bit about Black and knew that it was a very sore subject for his friend. No, that word didn't feel like it fit. The scout wasn't sure what to name the relationship he had with the medic, but it wasn't friendship. Whatever they had made him worry terribly for a femme he'd never met before, but wanted to.

* * *

Cybertron was scarily quiet. The only sound was the wind and the sound of their pedes on metal. As the wind grew in intensity, it started to sound like cries and wails of those long since past. The smell of rust and demise hung heavy like a fog made of smoke. The dust and small debris flew around like insects; the intensity only seeming to grow as the minutes passed.

Soundwave wished that it didn't have to go so far. All they wanted was to be equal and have the chance to be anything if they worked hard enough. They wanted rights. He didn't understand why that was so difficult. Why was it so terrible for him to have the right to be whatever he wanted to be? Sometimes, Soundwave liked the idea of having his radio. It was a pipe dream, of course, but he still liked to think about it. He liked to think about being able to do anything that wasn't what he was 'supposed' to do.

The mute looked up from the ground to his brother, sadness burning his hidden optics. They shouldn't have had to fight so hard. They shouldn't have been treated like mindless animals. He sometimes wondered what could have been if Ultra Magnus hadn't ratted him and his brother out to that glitch Sentinel Prime. They probably wouldn't have met Wingwraith, their only father figure. The thought of that mech made him tighten his servos into fists.

He was always angry whenever he thought about Wingwraith. He hated that mech. At least with Black and her mate, she was an adult who could make her own choices. Stormwire had been _far_ too young to bother with anything like a relationship, and Soundwave always felt like he had been taken advantage of. When the two split, he'd been very happy, even if he couldn't show it. He was infuriated as to why, but he could treat it was a silver lining to a horrid stain on the Decepticon cause.

He didn't realise that Megatron had stopped and only stopped himself after bumping into him.

"Though our bond is damaged, I can still feel your emotions when they're strong enough. There are very few things that you're this rageful over. I don't want to ask Lazerbeak what is angering you."

It was bizarre how little knew that you could form telepathic bonds with others. Those who were related often had strong bonds that were formed naturally, though they needed to be maintained. In Megatron and Soundwave's case, their bond had been severely damaged and Soundwave didn't know how to try and repair it. There were bonds between mates similar to what Ratchet and Black once had before she got sick, and bonds like those needed time to start but were hard to break later on. Bonds between two who weren't mates or related were a lot harder to form and even harder to fix.

Family bonds, mate bonds and friendship bonds had varying levels of strength. Even though they weren't able to talk to each other telepathically, they could still feel each other's emotions to an extent. Soundwave's bond with Lazerbeak was symbiotic, something very different. Even so, the little minx had managed to hijack their bond and so she was able to communicate with both of them. He refrained from doing so, but sometimes he would tell her what he wanted to say to his brother if he couldn't find the right images.e

He was a little thankful that Megatron wouldn't use Lazerbeak to talk to him but would talk directly.

Soundwave showed the image of androids 17 and 18 from the anime Knockout made him watch once and then a ghost. Megatron's face fell into irritation at the subject.

"I don't understand what your problem is. I didn't hold a grudge when you and Slipstream broke up. I didn't even get mad when you started something with _Scylla_ of all mecha! I'm legally blind and I wouldn't let her in the same solar system as me in such a context."

It was still a sore subject, clearly, but Soundwave was still angry about it and wanted him to be angry as well. Megatron had been the equivalent of a 13-year-old when they met Wingwraith and they became a lot more than friends before he would be considered an adult by most rational mecha. Yes, it was Soundwave who didn't understand what the problem was.

Soundwave showed a picture of a child with a ghost near it. It was almost funny how many there were on the internet.

"I wasn't underage."

Soundwave showed an image of Spock with his brow raised.

"Don't pull that face. It was fine."

He showed a picture of a cake with fruit on it.

"I'm not a fruitcake."

Soundwave brought up Spock again.

"You can't be serious."

He nodded, bring up the child with the ghost again.

"Of all the times you bring this up, it's now. Of course, it is. You never were one for timing... Would it make you happy if I admit it was a mistake?" Megatron sighed, too stressed to deal with this. "We'll talk about this later when our aunt isn't being held hostage by what is soon to be a doorstopper."

Soundwave watched him huff angrily and continue walking, Soundwave following behind him. He was pleased that he had brought it up and that they had gotten somewhere. Given what was going on with their uncle, Soundwave acknowledged that keeping things to themselves was very unhealthy and dangerous. He also needed to make sure that his little brother wouldn't end up back with that waste.

Seriously, what kind of spouse listens to your worst nightmares and trauma from your past and then recreates it? Wingwraith was the kind of spouse who did that. The more he pushed how bad it was, the better it would be for him. He had been told by Hoist and Shockwave how bad it had been with Conduit and Black and he would _not_ let that happen with Megatron.

The minutes soon became hours. They would fly, but the years of rust had created a new form of sandstorm and it would be very unwise to fly through such a thing. They were mostly quiet, not watching the taste or particles to enter their mouths and burn their glossa. As time went on, the storm just got worse. If not for the fact they were on a barren landscape, they would have taken shelter. Megatron used his superior size to shield Soundwave from the brunt of it, which greatly irritated the elder of the two. He wasn't in a position to complain, however, and he didn't want Lazerbeak's vents to be clogged from the debris.

They weren't sure exactly how long they had been in the storm until Soundwave saw something other than an ugly brown. A single red dot. Since Megatron wasn't able to see colour, Soundwave moved in front of him to greet the only mech crazy enough to stay on this dead ball of glorified brass.

"Follow," Shockwave said, a piece of fabric acting as a hood to cover his unblinking optic. The two didn't answer, following the much older mech. They didn't know how much longer it was until they were taken to Shockwave's lab, finally out of the storm. "You took your time."

"Apologies, Shockwave, we didn't know that you were alive. That would be on me for believing Starscream."

"I was left blind. Needless to say, I have greater respect for how you managed to get stuck so often when you were little. It must have taken great effort to end up on the roof a few times."

"And you say you don't have a sense of humour," Megatron said dryly. "We were given a map and a message through Encryptaryn from Black. She led us here." Shockwave turned his whole body to face him, showing that he was directing full attention at him. Not even the evil of the Council could remove a son's love for their carrier. "As she was unsafe with Hoist, she moved to the Nemesis. A choice I've been regretting since she was kidnapped by Airachnid."

"She will find herself a fate worse than death."

Soundwave gave a nod, looking around the lab. It was neat, as was expected with their cousin. He had everything organised, such as plans, notes, a schedule, possible diary to keep track of every day and some other things. He walked around, curiously investigating what Shockwave had been up to while Megatron caught him up to speed as to what had been going on. Shockwave listened to all of it, taking in every small piece of information.

"I'm not apologising for putting a fist in his chest."

"I would be surprised if it were otherwise." Shockwave turned to Soundwave. "May you please upload an image of the map." Soundwave connected himself to the terminal, uploading the picture he had taken. Shockwave stood next to him, examining it. "It is incomplete."

"Yes. It's a puzzle she made and it was by sheer luck that Breakdown discovered it. Knockout decoded the message after I translated it." Shockwave knew Encryptaryn a lot better than he did, so Megatron didn't repeat the words on the screen for him. "We know that Black has hidden someone and you know where that is. For her to have added it means it was important."

"The finish line is not a location, but a femme by that name. The planet where Hot Cross' blades lay is Tarphidaenus, an apt place given his resistance to heat." Megatron was not surprised that Shockwave knew, though it did annoy him a little. He was curious to know who the femme is, though. "I do not know if Finishline is her true name, but she is a 17-18, as is her mate who goes by Radiohead. They are with whoever has been hidden on Tarphidaenus."

Black had found more of them, then. That would make six so far out of the twenty, though he wasn't sure as Wingwraith or Thunderhoof could be dead somewhere. He doubted it, though. Soundwave was also interested in learning about these two who had become a couple. Finishline and Radiohead, only one of those names being familiar but Megatron couldn't remember where from.

"Maybe Black knew her mate was struggling?" Megatron suggested, unsure as to why Black had pointed them in such a direction. He looked at the map further and now it was on a screen, he could see it a lot better. Shockwave's implants let him see a lot of detail, so now he noticed one such detail. Where he believed Kaon to be, Megatron could see that something was there that shouldn't be. "What's that?" He pointed it out to the others.

"I do not recognise it," Shockwave admitted. "Black Frequency and Conduit used to go through the underground tunnels during their thieving days. Sabre would also use them to bring supplies to those who needed them without being seen. I believe her friends, Cloudjumper and Thunderroar also used them to transport stolen parts."

Megatron was familiar with those two names. They were Thundercracker, Skywarp and Starscream's sire and carrier's names. He had met Cloudjumper once or twice and it was very hard to see her spawning a little scrap like Starscream. He was curious to know what was so special that would make Black include it in her map. Maybe she had left something there?

"When the storm has calmed, I would like to investigate. Perhaps Black has left something that will shed some light on who she has hidden with Finishline and Radiohead."

"You best get yourselves comfortable. This is going to last all night as well as part of the morning."

The two weren't happy to hear that but understood. Shockwave lifted a trapdoor in the floor and walked down a set of stairs. They followed him and Megatron comically had to go sideways because of his size. When they were down, Shockwave pressed a button that closed the trapdoor, likely hiding it as well. If not for the fact it was his cousin, Megatron would be very anxious about being possibly locked inside.

When they looked on at Shockwave's main laboratory, there was a large cylinder in the middle of the room that caught their attention. There was a large metal dragon curled up akin to a fetus within a womb. It was large, strong-looking and there was only one word that Megatron felt fitting for such a sight.

"Cool."

Shockwave looked at his creation, mentally agreeing. He went into storage and looked for something his cousins could recharge on. He usually used berths as tables for his experiments, so most of them had stains that would be best described as mysterious and little more. He found one that he used for his failed Predacon autopsies and pulled it out. He grabbed a cloth and wiped away any mess. He knew that they wouldn't mind sharing as they had done so many times before.

"He is near completion. I have three more gestating, though I doubt that the female will reach completion. All the other female attempts have failed thus far."

"Are they going to last longer than the others you made?"

"I found that the previous batch's CNA was unstable and their technomeres were fragile, allowing them to succumb to age far faster than they should have. These, however, should not do so." Shockwave walked to a large console and brought it online. "I microchipped them as well, so I can collect the endomatter to make more."

"As well?"

"How do you think I found you?" Megatron shouldn't be surprised, but he was. He was also a little disturbed that Shockwave tracked his movements. "The two of you best get comfortable as you can. I suspect that there will be some corrosive rain as well."

Soundwave showed a single red N on his visor and then a picture of a snake next to it. Shockwave looked at Megatron for clarification.

"Soundwave is suggesting we watch some Monty Python, and given we're going to be stuck here for a while, it wouldn't hurt."

"What is Monty Python?"

"You're going to find out."

* * *

Optimus liked going to Griffin Rock. It was peaceful with the odd disaster here and there to spice things up. Though he didn't want to say it, his friend fit in with this group. He was starting to think that maybe it was best that he stay there, given how well he got along with the others. There seemed to be some history between him and Chase, though that was probably due to his days as Hazmat, which were long behind him.

Doctor Greene's charisma was infectious, as was Frankie's fascination regarding Cybertronian medicine. Could it be that Ratchet was better off here? That seemed very likely, and the longer he was on the island, the better the idea seemed to be. He was probably overdue for retirement and having a medic onboard in case Heatwave, Chase, Blades or Boulder hurt themselves was a good idea. Not to mention they would probably avoid a lot of things such as Morocco's stunt with Blades.

When he left, the belief that he was better there only grew. He was going to bring it up to the others but was given a surprise to see Knockout and Breakdown.

His Autobots brought him up to speed, none of it is what he wanted to hear. He didn't know Black personally, but she had been a major part in creating who he had just left behind, so he felt like he had a strong connection to her. Bumblebee brought up that they should tell Ratchet what was going on, but Breakdown gave his reasons as to why not. The Prime could see that the others weren't happy that the Decepticons knew more than they did. He was a little surprised to see that Fowler was here, but it was logical.

He probably wanted to keep an eye on the pair.

"I agree with Breakdown," Optimus said firmly. The orange-faced mech was giving him an expression that Prime read as 'you haven't told them yet?'. He didn't look like he approved of Optimus' choice but also seemed to understand. This cooperation was making him feel very uncomfortable, but it was also nice not bearing all of this on his shoulders alone.

"How?" Wheeljack said angrily. "That's his mate!"

"Tell me again why you thought it was a good idea to tell him?" Knockout said to Bulkhead in a rhetorical tone.

"I know. I also know better than the rest of you why it's important we keep this to ourselves."

"Prime!" Fowler yelled angrily. "Will you stop dancing around like a Smurf on PCP and just tell us what's going on already? I don't like it how the Chuckle Brothers here know more about the situation than us."

"We're more Willow and Tara, only the latter isn't dead," Knockout corrected.

"He has a point, Optimus. They, our enemies, know more than we do. What could it be that'd make Megatron pity someone? What is it that's been draining you? We can all see that this is making you unwell as well."

Optimus was starting to understand why Ratchet never said anything. The bombardment of questioning was grating on his nerves and he couldn't say anything. Not only because it wasn't his place but also because of what their reactions could be. He had been frustrated with how hard it'd been to claw out what was hurting his friend, and now he was on the other end. He was the one they were trying to claw information out of.

Sympathy had become an understatement.

"That's enough," Breakdown stated firmly. "If you hound someone with questions, they'll just dig in their heels and bite back."

*What would you know?* Bumblebee whirred, glaring at the taller mech.

"Me? I'm just a mech who is close to being a qualified psychiatrist. It's obvious that the glorified 'boy scout' would know more than me."

*Glorified boy scout!? I'll show you what's glorified!*

Bumblebee aimed his blasters at Breakdown, who aimed his shoulder cannon at him. Knockout got between the two, pulling out his staff from his subspace and extending it, hitting both of them in the lower abdomen. He quickly put it away afterwards, glaring at his mate and then the scout. Breakdown wasn't hit with the sharp end due to him still recovering and the bug's mesh was barely cut, so they were fine in Knockout's optics.

"There will be no infighting in my base," Optimus said loudly, using his deep voice to its fullest extent. "I appreciate that the two of you are helping us and I find your points valid, but please restrain yourselves. Autobots, as of now, I am declaring a temporary truce until Black is returned safely and Airachnid's helm on a spike."

"Megatron and Soundwave are currently getting Shockwave, so you might have to wait in like on the whole spike thing. Shocky has first dibs," the red medic grinned maliciously. Optimus rose an optic ridge at him. "Blacky dear left a little map. She told us where Shockwave is, but she did more than just that." He looked to Breakdown to continue.

"She left a message. Black hid somebody at the same location as the Solaricarver, so when Lord Megatron gets back, we'll be nice enough to give you the blades."

Optimus didn't think that Ratchet would be happy to see those things again, but he appreciated the thought.

"What in Lady Liberty is the solar carver?" Fowler asked, irritated by all he was seeing right now.

"Remember the Quantum Raider's we told you about at some point?" Wheeljack said. Fowler gave him a nod to continue "The Solaricarver belonged to Hot Cross, the fire-resistant one. When you think of the Solaricarver, think of the Chaos Blades from God of War, and you have an idea as to what those things look like. I've only read about them, but they had the heat to cut right through a mech like they were made of paper. You'd be cooked alive just by standing next to one of 'em."

"Isn't Hot Cross dead?" Bulkhead questioned.

"Nah, Quantum Raider's were built to be near impossible to kill. He's around, somewhere," Wheeljack answered.

Breakdown, Knockout and Optimus subtly shared a look, one that Bumblebee quietly noticed. He didn't like it. He didn't like any of this. He just wanted everything to go back to normal when it wasn't all so complicated and secretive.


	18. Chapter 18

Shockwave was up earlier than his cousins. He wasn't sure what he felt when seeing them again. The Council had fought hard to remove his emotions and his carrier had fought just as hard to reverse it. He was stuck in the middle, somewhere. Maybe he was angry that they left him. Maybe he was relieved. Either way, at least he wasn't alone anymore. He liked his solitude, but not to this extent.

He looked away from his examination of the tunnels as Soundwave walked up next to him, his visor sitting on a table near the berth he shared. Soundwave's faceplate was like obsidian, the black masterfully and disturbingly hiding the seam of his mouth. The optics themselves were a brilliant violent, the lens contractor was lilac and the optic lenses were sangria. The ex-senator believed that to be Sabre's contribution as Soundwave took more after his sire than his younger brother.

Soundwave looked at Shockwave and rubbed his neck chords, and Shockwave didn't need to be told more as to what Soundwave wanted. He had been waiting for his younger cousin to request this and was pleased. He liked to think that he was, at least.

Megatron got up after a few more hours, wearing a harsh grimace. He wasn't a morning mecha, unlike his armada of early birds. He got up and stretched his joints, popping any trapped air in those joints and enjoying the pleasant rush of fluid. The first thing he saw was the incubating Predacon, and the second was Soundwave who wasn't wearing his visor. That was nice to see.

"Has the storm ended?" Megatron asked.

"The worst of it is over. It is manageable now. As time is of the essence, we should make haste for the tunnel system. There is an entrance a mile from here."

"We'll follow you."

Soundwave used one of his cables to reattach his visor, giving a tick to show he was ready. With that, the three left Shockwave's laboratory and were led to the entrance he mentioned. There was still some remnants of the storm, but as Shockwave had said, the worst was over. When they arrived, Shockwave motioned for the larger of the three to force it open. The smell was atrocious, and there was a groaning sound emanating from the depths.

Despite the ominous noise, they entered. Shockwave could have felt sorry for his cousins due to their stronger olfactory senses, but he didn't. The elder was pleased that he only had to deal with the stench of death that he had grown used to. His cousins didn't share the same sentiment, and Lazerbeak shivered against Soundwave's chest at the feeling that something was wrong in here.

Megatron started to glow purple, providing some light to soothe the disturbed minicon. As he did so, he felt a pulse. The pulse told him that not all of the undead he had brought back from this planet had managed to get to the Spacebridge that nearly claimed his spark a year ago or so. This one must've gotten stuck in the tunnels. The glow intensified a little as he searched for it and latched on, gaining control over its mindless form.

He commanded that it come to them, and it did so. It was a terrible sight, seeing the upper half of a mecha claw their way to them. It would have left a trail of Energon if not for the fact their veins had dried up a long time ago. Megatron walked over to his creation and kneeled, peering into what little there was of its shattered mind. He had been experimenting with dead Vehicons to hone in his abilities regarding Dark Energon, and sometimes he was able to get an image or two from them.

He learned that this used to be a femme called Ladybug. She had been neutral and had fled to the tunnels to escape the war. She had been killed by an Autobot, a mech Megatron recognised as Tailgate, and the last thing she saw were two doors with ancient writing that he read as "Chamber of Astralsoar". Then there was nothing.

Shockwave watched his young cousin as he re-killed the monstrosity. When he had been told about this, he thought that Megatron had been exaggerating. He wished to examine this substance and exploit its true power. He walked past it along with Soundwave, the largest somehow quieter than before. Neither asked what he had done with the husk, it was not the time for that right now.

Shockwave looked down at a scanner in his servo that directed him to where Black had marked what should not have been. The walk took four hours, even with the shortcuts the cyclops elder knew about. Soon, they found themselves under Kaon, the capital of their cause. It was one of the least damaged parts of the planet, a testament to how much it meant to the Decepticons.

It was here that Megatron had voiced his rage towards those who did such wrong and got away with it, and it just so happened that he had an audience when he snapped. His words had been heard and they were the match that lit the gasoline-soaked pyre. He hadn't meant for so much death to have happened, but so long as those who believed in the Age of Pyrite still stood, the battle wouldn't be over. He had to make sure that the future of their species would be able to live without the aggressive and corrupted nature of the Primes.

When he won this war, Kaon would be the first location he would rebuild. It would be a combined effort between his Decepticons and the Autobots who were brave enough to help. Contrary to what many of the Autobots said - and exactly as Airachnid had said - he was far more forgiving than he should be. He had let go of many of Starscream's transgressions, he had forgiven Soundwave for abandoning him in his time of need and had forgiven Tarn in his participation with Grindcore.

He didn't forgive Wingwraith, and he knew Soundwave would make sure he wouldn't. He didn't forgive Optimus for ripping their family apart. For a while, he hadn't forgiven his uncle for being a complete aft, though that feeling was changing now that he had context. Unfortunately, he had a strong feeling that Hoist hadn't listened to him, which Megatron was going to have to sort out. If Black ever recovered from the Blip, she wouldn't appreciate her grandfather treating her mate like scrap. She would be mad that said mate had treated her nephews similarly, but Hoist had some of the blame there too.

"There is something behind here," Shockwave said, aiming the scanner towards the wall. Without needing to ask, the largest started beating at the wall. It was weaker than it should've been and started to bend from the force. With each hit, it became clear that this was a very well hidden door. Megatron ripped it off the very old hinges, revealing a tunnel that had not been used in a long time. The scanner beeped happily. "This has not been seen by the optics of mecha for a long time."

"From what I'm smelling, that's not entirely true." This was the origin of the stink. Someone must've managed to open the door and any inside were then trapped, left to starve and be reduced to debris.

"Cybertronians don't smell when we die," Shockwave said as he aimed his arm at an abnormal mound, a green light coming from it and sending information to his processor. He raised his arm, expanding the scan. "Quintesson remains do, however." They had accidentally opened a tomb. If not for his predicament, Shockwave would be disturbed. "There is no telling what resides deep within, so we should be careful. If anything is still alive in here, it will be very starved."

Holding the scanner in his servo forward, they continued. The location that Black had shown on that map was half an hour away from what he was reading, which was fortunate for them. He did not like that his carrier was with such a horrid specimen, but he also wanted to know what she had hidden. It had to have been important. How could it not be?

Megatron was starting to feel hot. It was like he was walking closer and closer to a thermal generator. He hid it well, not wanting to alert Soundwave or Shockwave to something that wasn't affecting them. He couldn't hide it for too long, however. It felt like he was starting to cook.

"I'm going to have to stay here," he said, his fans on the highest setting to cool his systems. Shockwave moves his digits under his cousin's armour to get to the soft profoform underneath, unable to detect a reason why he was starting to perspire. Soundwave showed an image of Dark Energon, suggesting the cause. "That could very well be it. I guess that means I'm on guard duty for any vermin looking for a meal."

Shockwave accepted this and continued, leaving Soundwave to decide whether to stay with one or the other. Megatron shooed him to follow, so the slightly older mech did so. He would soon see what was the cause for his younger brother's affliction when they saw a bright blue glow emanating from an opening to another catacomb-like corridor. The two mechs only needed to stand at the entrance to see what was causing the glow.

"Vector Sigma."

* * *

Black Frequency was doodling. To most, it looked like incomprehensible scribbles only the mad could understand. Airachnid, in this case, was not among the mad despite the evidence being to the contrary. She had learned from somewhere how to make layered plans, something that made sense when images were placed on top of one another. She was trying to make something that would help her and her companion in their less than hospitable situation.

As far as the mean spider was concerned, she was safely harnessed to the wall. Black had cut herself free a while ago, but she managed to make it look like she was still webbed. She might have problems with her memory, but Black wasn't a complete idiot. She remembered making one of these layered plans for someone to find to help her, as well as to find something she had hidden. Black wasn't sure what it was at the moment, but she would find out soon enough.

"How're you progressing?" She chirped, taking a small glance at the guarding Insecticon.

For some reason, Black felt a powerful sense of rage at the idea of taking away someone's will like that. It reminded her of something, but she couldn't place a digit on it. Whatever it was, it filled her with the desire to cut the spider's extra legs off.

"I wouldn't even be able to make a toaster with these parts, let alone a Spacial Rift Projection Generator for Space Specified Aircrafts!" he snarled very loudly, hitting the desk that was close to falling apart. Much like the rest of this blasted ship. "I need more parts, which she isn't willing to get. If she wants this thing so badly, she should put some effort into its creation!"

"Is that so?" Starscream didn't flinch when he heard her voice, only glared at the spider. "What would you need?"

"First of all, there's no point in even making it. This thing requires a _ship_ to operate. In case you haven't noticed, we barely have _half_ of a ship, let alone a functioning half. The fact the lights are still on astound me."

"What would you need to build it? I found a handy little thing that can tap into the ship's Groundbridge generator and open one remotely, though I'll have to find Energon to power it properly."

"I organised mining on this planet for three years. You're not going to find a vein that the Decepticons haven't flagged."

"So, you know the ones that have been 'done' then?"

She had heard from Knockout about the incident with the cave-in where Megatron nearly ended his worthless spark. She hadn't thought much of it, but now it was of use to her.

"Can I have more paper?" Black Frequency asked, earning a harsh look from the spider. "And I think my pen is running out."

"I'll get them on the way. If you made something useful, maybe you wouldn't be running out."

Black Frequency watched her leave. The white ring for her optic changed into half a circle with the curve facing up, showing her glee. The small femme took off the sticky harness and snuck over to a section of the wall and cracked a loose piece open. She pulled out a box and opened it, showing what the two had been working on all night when the spider thought they were recharging.

"We might not be able to make the device she wants, but we can block her control over Scorpionfly. Soon, anyway. How far are you with the warp generator?" Black moved her pieces of paper together to show that she was partially done.

"Warp gates aren't nearly as powerful as Groundbridges, usually only having a limit of 4,500 km. Where could we be going?"

"You'll see," the seeker said menacingly. "For now, let's finish this before she gets back."

"With pleasure. I have a personal hatred for mecha like her."

* * *

Something was wrong. He knew that something was wrong and it was bothering him as to what. He didn't like this feeling. He hated it. It was encouraging a strange form of rage.

"What's up?" Asked Heatwave.

"I can feel that something is wrong. I can feel some kind of distress, but it's not mine... I think that Black might be in trouble. Our bond is weak but it's still there." The mech narrowed his optics in anger. "I have to find her."

"You're not doing it on your own, Pinocchio. It'll be good to meet the femme that made you a real boy." That earned a hit to the arm. It wasn't a bother to Heatwave, but he knew that if it was another mech, they would have their arm dented in nearly two pieces. "So, how do you intend to find her?"

"Black Frequency has an Energon irregularity, meaning that it is slightly radioactive. It's not all that uncommon, but it's high enough to be trackable. If she's somewhere that doesn't have a lot of radiation, she'll stick out like Laserwing."

Laserwing was one of their sisters, the femme that could make a portal with a flap of her angelic wings. Unlike Hot Cross, she was so white that it was disturbing. She was so white that you could see every spec of dirt on her, turning her into a clean-freak. It was funny seeing her throw a fit over dirt and muck during their less savoury missions.

"We can use the ship to search for her."

"And there is more than enough technology available for me to make a Remote Groundbridge Generator. It's about time you got of this damn island, anyway."

"This is going to be fun."

"Damn right."


End file.
